LINGO  DAN 

A  NOVEL 


BY 

PERCIVAL  POLLARD 

Author  of ' '  The  Imitator, "  "  Cape  of  Storms, 
'  'Dreams  of  Today, ' '  Etc. 


WASHINGTON,   D.  C. 

THE    NEALE    PUBLISHING  COMPANY 
431  ELEVENTH  STREET 
MCMIII 


COPYRIGHT,  1903,  BY  PERCIVAL  POLLARD 


This  book  is  dedicated  to  Ambrose  Bierce,  Lingo 
Dan's  first  friend. 

P.  P. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2014 


https://archive.org/details/lingodannovelOOpoll 


PREFACE 


Lest  this  book  perturb  too  mightily  some 
of  our  Gaboriaus  of  criticism,  let  me  set  down 
here  the  fact  that  my  hero  and  his  companion 
were  first  introduced  to  the  world  by  me  in 
1894  through  the  San  Francisco  Argonaut. 
A  judge,  more  given  to  austerity  than  leni- 
ency, saw  fit  to  remark  that  Lingo  Dan  was 
a  new  type  in  American  fiction.  In  that  be- 
lief I  still  venture  to  continue,  despite  the 
fact  that  he  has,  since  first  quietly  making 
his  bow,  had  many  rivals  more  conspicuous 
than  himself  in  the  line  of  thought  and  con- 
duct he  adorns.  If  it  be  objected  against  me 
that  I  have  delayed  nearly  ten  years  in  thus 
continuing  the  chronicle  begun  in  1894,  I 
retort  that  even  this  has  taken  a  deal  of  tem- 
erity; my  gentleman  is  still  alive,  and  there 
is  no  knowing  what  form  his  reproaches  for 
these  indiscretions  of  mine  may  take. 

P.  P. 

Washington,  1903. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  In  Which  An  Important  Duet  is  Introduced 

Without  Any  Ceremony   9 

II  In  Which  the  Dignity  of  Honest  Labor  and 

Cheque  Books  is  Eloquently  Set  Forth. .  24 

III  Which  Exposes  Some  of  the  Vicissitudes 

That  May  Befall  a  Country  Sheriff   40 

IV  In  Which  There  is  a  Meeting  of  Two  Em- 

perors,  and  in  Which  the  Stars  and 
Stripes  are  Waved — and  Saved   56 

V  Telling  of  Some  Rifle  Bullets  and  the  In- 

vention of  a  Somewhat  Splendid  Lie   87 

VI  In  Which  it  is  Shown  How  One  May  Enter 

Society  Without  Being  Introduced   99 

VII  From  Which  it  Would  Appear  That  Ducks 

May  be  Preferable  to  Ducats    115 

VIII    Which  Dwells  Upon  Lingo  Dan's  Method 

of  Beautifying  the  Suburbs   137 

IX  Concerning  Murder  and  Some  Speculation 

in  Comedy    149 

X  In  Which  There  is  a  Glimpse  of  Arcady. .. .  163 


CHAPTER  I 

IN  WHICH  AN  IMPORTANT  DUET  IS  INTRODUCED 
WITHOUT  ANY  CEREMONY 

The  snow  that  lined  the  sides  of  what  the 
railroad  men  of  that  section  called  the  "Brigh- 
ton Cut"  was,  fortunately  for  two  persons  who 
suddenly  found  themselves  transported  from 
the  cold  hospitality  of  a  freight-car  to  the  cold- 
er embraces  of  the  wide,  white  world  that  en- 
compassed the  track,  very  deep.  After  a  mo- 
ment or  two  of  partial  insensibility,  more  the 
result  of  bewilderment  than  of  actual  physical 
hurt,  these  two  li  rted  their  heads  up  out  of  the 
white  counterpane  that  clung  to  them  like  some 
active  envelope,  and  looked  after  the  train  that 
was  now  merely  a  mist  of  smoke  and  an  echo 
faint  beyond  the  curves  of  the  forest. 

"H'm,"  said  the  first  one  of  the  two  derelicts 
to  rise  and  shake  the  snow  off  his  thin  form, 
"that  was  a  fearful  breach  of  hospitality.  We 
invest  a  common  carrier,  so  termed  in  law, 
with  the  dignity  of  carrying  such  uncommon 
personages  as  ourselves,  and  this — this  is  the 
treatment  we  receive!  Billy,  this  is  a  heathen 
country !"  He  took  off  his  cap  and  passed  eight 


IO 


LINGO  DAN. 


long  and  bony  fingers  through  his  snow-invest- 
ed hair. 

"Damn  his  eyes !"  said  Billy.  He  was  a  per- 
son of  few  words,  and  fewer  attractions.  He 
was  short,  and  his  general  effect  was  toward 
the  loutish. 

"Yes,"  the  other  replied,  looking  about  him, 
"I  have  no  doubt  you  are  right.  Billy,  your 
explanation  is  a  most  agreeable  one.  It  was 
owing  to  some  curious  defect  in  that  brake- 
man's  eyes,  doubtless,  that  he  failed  to  notice 
our  high  estate ;  if  any  part  of  him  is  to  suffer 
condemnation,  it  is  his  eyes.  Billy,  I  agree  with 
you ;  say  it  again !" 

Billy,  for  a  brief  minute,  looked  as  if  he 
would  like  to  include  other  and  nearer  eyes  in 
his  anathema.  He  contented  himself,  however, 
with  a  muttered  "Argh !"  a  circular  look  at  the 
prospect  of  sloping  meadow-land,  and  a  "What 
next,  cully?" 

"Stranded  as  we  are  upon  an  apparently 
shoreless  sea  of  snow,"  responded  the  gentle- 
man addressed,  "our  next  move  should  be  to- 
ward shelter."  He  paused  to  kick  some  snow 
out  of  a  boot  that  was,  as  to  the  toes,  over-hos- 
pitable to  the  elements.  "This  is  a  dismal  spot !" 

To  tell  the  truth,  the  "Brighton  Cut"  is  one 
of  the  bleakest  places  in  the  State.  The  railway 
track  comes  winding  down  a  steep  grade  until 
it  reaches  this  cut;  the  soil  thereabouts  is  not 
tillable,  and  there  are  no  fences  for  over  half  a 


LINGO  DAN. 


1 1 


mile.  A  thin  strip  of  forest  shuts  out  the  west- 
ern view.  On  a  gray  afternoon  in  midwinter 
it  looks  very  lonely,  and  there  is  something  in 
the  silence  of  it,  after  the  rattle  of  a  freight- 
train  has  echoed  away,  that  strikes  a  chill  even 
when  the  sun  is  shining.  It  was  no  wonder, 
then,  that  to  these  two,  just  stranded  there 
from  the  comparatively  warm  recesses  of  a 
lumber-car,  the  place  should  seem  decidedly 
dismal.  They  wrere  used  to  dismal  things,  to 
be  sure;  but  that  ever-present  yearning  for 
luxury  and  its  attendant  inexertion — a  yearn- 
ing that  had  made  them  what  they  were — re- 
belled at  every  repetition  of  the  unwelcome 
reality.  It  is  not  necessary  to  state  very  par- 
ticularly who  these  two  were.  The  one  with 
the  tall  frame  and  the  taller  language  might 
have  been  a  great  many  things,  some  of  them 
great;  the  fact  that  he  was  none  of  these  is  ex- 
planation enough  for  his  title  as  a  tramp.  As  for 
the  other  one,  it  is  doubtful  whether  he  had  ever 
had  even  possibilities;  he  was,  by  lapse  of  all 
other  capabilities,  a  tramp  for  sure.  Just  as  it 
is  sufficient  of  a  man  to  say  that  he  is  a  king, 
so  it  is  enough,  introduction  to  make  certain 
that  he  is  a  tramp.  These  two  were  indubitably 
tramps.  It  was  evident  in  the  consummate 
grace  with  which  1hey  wore  their  curiously  al- 
lotted clothes.  I:  was  patent  in  the  air  of  no- 
bility that  stamped  them  as  true  lords  of  the 
air.    It  was  on  their  breath. 


LINGO  DAN. 


"I  may  say,  without  exaggeration,"  contin- 
ued the  taller  of  the  two,  "that  this  is  a  place 
unfit  for  such  as  we  are  to  rest  in.  Wherefore, 
let  us  reconnoitre." 

As  they  passed  up  the  slope  toward  the  north 
it  began  to  snow  steadily.  Over  in  the  west, 
the  faint,  gray  light  of  day  was  dimming  to 
the  almost  colorless  shade  of  white  upon  white. 
It  was  an  arduous  task,  stamping  through  the 
drifting  snow.  From  time  to  time  one  might 
have  heard,  had  one  been  within  earshot,  the 
voice  of  Billy,  cursing  as  he  walked. 

*  sf:  sjs  Jfi  jjs  jjj  Jfc  $ 

On  what  is  known  in  that  county  as  the 
Brighton  Mill  Road,  there  is,  for  the  most  part, 
a  sprinkling  of  as  fine  farms  as  there  are  any- 
where in  the  West.  The  farm-houses  are  well- 
painted,  and  the  barns  are  roomy  and  new 
enough  to  be  the  envy  of  many  a  man  who  has 
gone  further  toward  the  plains  and  rented  a  log 
cabin.  For  a  distance  of  about  a  mile,  east  and 
west,  however,  this  highway  passes  through  a 
barren  district  that  is  marked  by  nothing  save 
a  tumble-down  shanty,  with  a  roof  the  bricks 
of  which  have  fallen  eastward.  This  shanty 
stands  at  a  point  where  the  highway  is  nearest 
to  that  point  on  the  railway  known  as  the 
"Brighton  Cut,"  on  the  summit  of  the  arid 
slope  leading  down  to  the  rails.  For  a  good 
many  years  this  shanty  had  been  the  home,  if 
one  may  use  the  word  so  lightly,  of  a  certain 


LINGO  DAN. 


13 


Doc  Midclals,  concerning  whom  but  little  seem- 
ed to  be  known,  save  that  he  was  "baching  it." 
Just  what  presumption  of  ownership  or  inter- 
est in  the  shanty  or  its  surroundings  went  with 
Middals's  system  of  occupation  there  seemed 
to  be  no  one  willing  to  testify.  This  Doc  Mid- 
dais  was  a  queer  fellow  who  rarely  spent  more 
than  a  month  or  two  at  a  time  in  the  shanty, 
and  his  goings  and  comings  were  so  erratic, 
his  place  so  remote  from  the  view  of  other 
habitations,  that  the  question  of  his  presence 
or  absence  was  always  an  open  one.  The  farm- 
ers who  passed  on  the  highway  had  long  since 
given  up  speculating  on  the  subject;  Middals 
frequently  denied  himself  a  fire  even  in  mid- 
winter, so  not  even  the  absence  of  smoke  about 
the  shattered  chimney  was  proof  positive  of  the 
man's  presence  elsewhere. 

It  was  in  this  cottage  that  Lingo  Dan — by 
this  sobriquet  was  the  taller  of  the  two  tramps, 
who  had  been  lately  deposited  in  the  "Brighton 
Cut"  by  an  inhospitable  brakeman,  known  in 
such  circles  as  knew  him  at  all  intimately — and 
his  partner  Billy  were  housed  about  a  week 
after  their  advent  in  that  part  of  the  country. 
By  a  marvelous,  instinctive  faculty  of  penetra- 
tion, of  stilling  his  own  curiosity,  Lingo  Dan 
had  fully  possessed  himself  of  all  the  facts  in 
connection  with  that  shanty  before  he  en- 
tered it. 


LINGO  DAN. 


Covered  by  the  drifting  of  the  snow,  the  pres- 
ence of  these  two  was  absolutely  unknown  to  a 
soul.  In  the  driving  storm  that  followed  their 
arrival  like  a  wail  of  omen,  all  their  tracks 
through  the  snow  had  been  obliterated. 

Looking  out  of  the  eastern  window  of  the 
Middals  shanty,  Lingo  Dan  gave  a  sigh  of  ad- 
miration. The  sun  was  making  a  million  dia- 
monds dance  about  the  crust  of  snow  that 
stretched  away  over  the  fields  and  on  the  high- 
way; it  was  like  a  rollicking  cowboy  shooting 
until  his  victims  dance  for  dear  life.  Clear  as 
crystal,  the  air  was  intensely  sensitive  to  tone; 
a  far-off  ringing  cf  sleigh-bells  sounded  with  a 
distinctness  that  belied  distance.  Out  of  the 
blue  of  the  sky,  the  glitter  of  the  sun,  and  the 
fierce  purity  of  the  snow,  there  arose  a  splendid 
dazzlement  that  blinded  unaccustomed  eyes. 

"It  would  be  pathetic,"  mused  Lingo  Dan 
aloud,  after  passing  his  hand  over  his  eyes  to 
shut  out  the  glare  that  began  to  hurt  him.  "if 
we  should  find  our  opportunity  on  such  a  day. 
Look,  Billy,  what  a  day  it  is !  H'm,  I  had  not 
thought  this  country  capable  of  so  magnificent 
an  effect.  And  yet,  do  you  know,  I  think  it  is 
going  to  snow  again  before  night." 

Billy  offered  no  reply.  He  was  engaged  in 
cleaning  out  a  rifle,  and  at  intervals  he  contort- 
ed his  face  into  a  squint  so  that  he  might 
gauge  the  nicety  of  the  barrel's  internal  polish. 


LINGO  DAN. 


15 


"When  I  come  to  consider  the  matter,"  Lin- 
go Dan  went  on,  "I  begin  to  regret  my  harsh 
words  anent  that  brakeman.  He  was,  as  I  now 
see  it,  an  instrument  of  a  benign  providence. 
Providence  is,  indeed,  singularly  benign.  What 
could  be  handier  to  our  purpose  than  this  cot- 
tage and  its  associations  ?  Occupied  by  a  harm- 
less hermit,  it  takes  on  all  the  innocuousness 
possible.  Benign  providence !  This  man  Mid- 
dais  is  absent,  leaving  us  his  shanty  and  his 
shooting  irons.  Benign  providence!  I  feel  it 
in  my  veins,  now  tingling  with  the  excitation 
so  beautiful  a  day  has  put  me  in,  that  there 
will  presently  come  some  one  whose  necessity  is 
not  so  great  as  ours.  In  the  interests  of  liberty 
and  equality,  we  must  relieve  his  person  of  its 
valuables  ere  we  release  him.  I  trust  he  will 
not  resist.    I  sincerely  trust  so.    But  if  he  does 

 "    He  looked  at  Billy's  employment.  "Is 

it  clean?" 

"Slick  as  grease,"  was  Billy's  answer. 
"Benign  providence!" 

It  was  as  if  in  response  to  Lingo  Dan's  de- 
vout utterance  that  the  eastern  hilltop  became 
at  this  moment  slightly  clouded  with  a  fine 
powdery  mist.  Then  the  forms  of  two  persons 
on  horseback  appeared  upon  the  slope;  it  was 
evident  that  their  ascent  of  the  farther  side  had 
been  accomplished  at  a  canter.  Even  at  that 
distance,  so  clear  was  the  day,  the  breath  of  the 
horses'  nostrils  could  be  seen  rising  about  them 


i6 


LINGO  DAN. 


like  a  halo.    At  the  first  sight  of  them,  Lingo 
Dan,  smiling  unctuously,  said :  "Ah,  Billy,  our 
prey  approaches." 
"One?" 

"No ;  there  are  two  of  them.  They  are  rid- 
ing. One  is  a  man ;  the  other,  a  woman.  They 
are  young.  Judging  by  their  present  loitering- 
and  the  interest  each  exhibits  in  the  other,  I 
should  say  they  were  lovers." 

"No  good — they  ain't !"  Billy  gave  the  rifle 
a  last  vicious  wipe,  and  laid  it  upon  a  shelf. 

"Haste,  my  boy,  is  a  dangerous  indulgence. 
I  beg  to  differ;  I  think  we  are  in  particularly 
good  luck.  Such  slight  observance  of  the  ways 
of  my  kind  as  I  have  been  able  to  take  has 
taught  me  that  in  certain  walks  of  life  a  young 
man  never  permits  himself  the  company  of  a 
young  lady  without  being  sure  that  he  has 
money  in  his  pocket.  Yonder  young  man  is  of 
that  walk  in  life.  There  are,  you  see,  so  many 
possibilities,  such  contingencies,  that  to  pro- 
vide one's  self  with  money  before  providing 
one's  self  with  a  companion  is  merely  to  prove 
one's  appreciation  of  the  world  we  live  in;  this 
applies  to  a  ride  of  an  hour  as  well  as  to  a 
marriage  for  life." 

Billy  was  apparently  used  to  such  lengthy 
philosophies,  for  he  replied,  as  if  unconscious 
of  the  other's  wordy  efforts :  "Say !  How 
about  getting  away?" 


LINGO  DAN. 


17 


"Easy — ridiculously  easy.  After  obtaining 
the  reward  of  our  exertions,  we  drift  gently 
down  the  slope  to  the  railway,  and  presently, 
boarding  a  freight,  turn  our  faces  to  the  Gold- 
en West.  I  have  observed  a  ledge  of  rock  from 
which  we  can  easily  propel  ourselves  on  to  the 
moving  cars  while  the  train  is  toiling  up  the 
steep  grade  of  the  cut.  We  will  not  be  found — 
if  we  ever  are — until  many  miles  have  been 
traversed ;  an  alibi  will  be  complete." 

"But  our  tracks  from  here  to  the  cut?" 

"Billy,  you  are  singularly  slow.  Do  you  see 
that  cloud  on  the  horizon  ?  Before  night  it  will 
snow;  our  foot-marks  will  be  utterly  wiped 
out." 

Billy  considered  a  moment.  Then  he  said, 
triumphantly:  "But  the  impressions  will 
harden  this  surface ;  they'll  get  on  to  us  if  ever 
they  sweep  away  the  new  fall  of  snow." 

Lingo  Dan  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "Whence 
the  inspiration  of  that  remark,  I  know  not.  I 
think  you  must  have  been  reading  Conan 
Doyle.  Well,  you  can  be  quite  sure  that  there 
is  no  Sherlock  Holmes  in  this  part  of  the  coun- 
try.   Dear  me !" 

At  this  last  exclamation  Billy  looked  curious. 
"What's  up?"  he  asked. 

For  an  instant  or  two  Lingo  Dan  made  no 
reply.  He  was  looking  intently  at  the  high- 
way on  which  the  two  riders  were  approach- 
ing.   In  point  of  fact,  the  occurrence  that  at- 


18 


LINGO  DAN. 


tracted  his  attention  was  singular  enough.  As 
they  rode  slowly,  side  by  side,  down  the  slope 
of  the  road  that  came  to  the  shanty  from  the 
east,  the  young  man's  left  arm  slowly  disen- 
gaged itself  from  the  reins  of  his  horse  and 
passed  behind  the  waist  of  his  human  compan- 
ion; their  bodies  and  their  heads  came  gently, 
carefully  together;  the  girl's  hand  went  up  to 
her  chin,  detaching  the  veil  and  relegating  it 
to  her  forehead,  and  then  her  arm  encircled  the 
young  man;  their  faces  met  in  a  kiss.  The 
horses'  heads  hung  down  and  their  feet  ambled 
leisurely;  tired  after  their  hill-climbing  canter, 
they  took  this  respite  thankfully  enough.  It 
was  a  kiss  that  lasted  longer  than  do  most 
kisses;  the  adventurous  circumstances  and  the 
perilous  nature  of  their  position  tended  to  fill 
both  these  riders  with  the  advisability  of  mak- 
ing the  most  of  bliss ;  to  them,  the  kiss  was  but 
an  infinitesimal  instant  of  happiness;  to  any 
one  not  concerned  in  it,  its  length  would  have 
seemed  an  eternity.  All  these  things  the 
watcher  in  the  cottage  observed. 

"It  is  evident,"  he  said,  presently,  "that  this 
is  no  ordinary  case.  They  are  lovers,  but  they 
are  also  more :  they  are  eloping.  This  compli- 
cates matters.  It  makes  our  booty  greater,  but 
it  increases  the — h'm — the  difficulty.  Yes,  I 
am  afraid  this  will  be  a — what  did  we  say  in 
the  Quadrangle? — a  mauvais  quart  d'heure" 


LINGO  DAN. 


19 


"What're  you  drivin'  at?"  Billy  glowered 
at  his  companion  in  evident  disgust  at  his  high- 
flown  phrases. 

"My  dear  Billy,  here  are  the  facts :  Two 
persons,  when  they  elope,  are  preparing  for  a 
future ;  hence,  the  young  man  lines  his  pockets 
before  he  starts.  He  lines  his  pockets,  however, 
both  from  without  and  within.  Realizing  the 
risk  he  is  running,  he  puts  pistols  in  his  hip- 
pockets,  as  well  as  a  purse  over  his  breast." 

"I  reckon  that's  likely." 

"Thank  you.  Your  acquiescence,  Billy, 
soothes  a  spirit  slightly  ruffled  by  the  prospect 
of  discourtesy.  For,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  fear  we 
shall  have  to — h'm — silence  these  two  first,  and 
inquire  afterward.  It  would  be  so  infernally 
unpleasant,  you  see,  if  he  got  the  drop  on  us. 
Understand,  then,  that  we  are  not  to  take  risks. 
You,  Billy,  will  sight  for  the  girl;  I'll  take  the 
man." 

There  was  a  click  as  Billy  sent  the  hammer 
of  his  rifle  to  the  full-cock.  Lingo  Dan  stretch- 
ed out  his  long  arm,  picked  up  the  other 
weapon  and  rested  the  barrel  carefully  on  the 
window-sill. 

The  riders  were  quite  close  to  the  house,  and 
the  love  in  the  eyes  of  each  shone  out  with  a 
sort  of  spiritual  brilliance.  They  leaned  to- 
gether again  and  joined  lips  in  a  long,  delicious 
kiss. 


20 


LINGO  DAN. 


And  while  they  kissed,  two  shots  rang  out  on 
the  crystal  air. 

An  old  woman  living  on  the  outskirts  of 
Libertytown  rejoices  in  the  peculiar  sobriquet 
of  Mrs.  Early  Worm.  This  is,  one  can  only 
suppose,  due  to  her  habit  of  rising  at  a  most 
infinitesimal  hour,  in  midwinter  as  well  as  in 
midsummer.  As  to  her  reasons  for  this  singu- 
lar course,  there  is  nothing  but  conjecture.  She 
is  said  to  have  driven  her  husband  to  an  early 
grave,  and  then,  overcome  by  remorse,  to  have 
sworn  to  seek  none  but  an  early  grave  herself. 
However  that  may  be,  the  things  that  Mrs. 
Early  Worm  saw  on  the  morning  of  the  twen- 
tieth of  February,  189-,  are  facts,  and  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  realm  of  conjecture. 

When  she  arose,  the  world  was  still,  in  spite 
of  its  coating  of  snow,  very  dark.  There  was 
light,  to  be  sure,  of  that  curious,  indefinite 
gray  that  distinguishes  the  birth  of  a  day  in 
winter  time.  She  was  proceeding  to  the  wood- 
shed to  pick  up  the  usual  armful  of  kindling- 
wood  for  the  kitchen  stove,  when  suddenly  she 
said,  "Land  sakes,  what  is  that?"  and  stood 
stock-still  in  the  middle  of  the  yard. 

What  she  saw  was  this :  Through  the  gray 
dawn  light  that  hung  between  the  earth's  white 
coverlet  and  the  night's  flying  wings  of  sable, 
there  approached  the  apparition  of  two  horses 
and  two  riders.    In  the  gray  haze  they  shone 


LINGO  DAN. 


21 


like  angels  of  whiteness;  that  was  the  awful 
part  of  it — they  were  all  white!  Against  the 
horizon,  where  night  still  held  sway,  their 
forms  were  cut  as  clearly  as  in  ivory.  As  they 
came  nearer,  the  old  woman,  shivering  now 
with  cold  and  fear,  observed  that  one  rider  was 
a  man,  the  other,  a  girl.  They  sat  motionless, 
rigid,  as  if  carved  of  marble.  They  were  cov- 
ered with  frost  from  head  to  foot;  they  were 
white  with  the  hue  of  cold.  The  horses,  as 
they  stepped  rhythmically  forward,  blew  out 
mists  of  steam  that  came  back  to  them  frozen 
coatings  of  ice. 

The  old  woman,  with  an  effort,  found  energy 
enough  to  wrench  herself  out  of  the  strange, 
lethargic  fascination  she  had  been  in.  She  be- 
gan to  run,  as  fast  as  her  old  legs  could  carry 
her,  toward  the  nearest  house,  about  a  hundred 
yards  away. 

Presently  the  entire  village  was  aroused  to 
the  presence  of  this  ghastly  phenomenon. 

Heedless  of  the  terror  they  occasioned,  the 
horses  stepped  on  with  a  tired  and  even  gait. 

And  now  it  was  observed  that  the  riders  were 
linked  together,  that  the  two  were  one,  that 
here  was  some  awful  unity  of  horror.  Their 
arms  were  intertwined,  their  faces  touching. 
The  man's  right  hand  held  his  horse's  reins  and 
a  hunting-crop,  while  his  left  was  about  the 
girl's  waist ;  her  right  was  about  his  shoulders, 
and  her  left  held  the  reins.    Their  shoulders 


22 


LINGO  DAN. 


touched ;  it  was  as  if  they  were  hewn  out  of  one 
stone. 

But  there  was  no  breath  from  their  nostrils. 
White  as  ghosts,  still  as  eternity,  they  rode  on 
into  the  heart  of  the  village. 

Numb  with  dread,  no  one  dared  approach 
them.  All  knew  their  faces  well ;  no  one  spoke 
their  names;  even  curiosity  was  stifled  in  the 
greatness  of  their  terror. 

With  the  resonant  clamor  of  iron  shoes  upon 
wood,  both  horses  ascended  the  slight  sloping 
entrance  to  the  livery  barn.  Roused  by  the 
sound,  the  livery  man  came  out  of  his  office. 
He  looked,  in  dazed  astonishment,  at  these  col- 
orless, silent,  motionless  riders,  he  noticed  what 
no  one  had  yet  seen :  upon  the  breast  of  each  a 
crimson  stain,  not  quite  hidden  by  the  coat- 
ing of  frost. 

"Great  God!"  he  said;  "they're  stone  dead!" 

******** 

The  sun,  shimmering  through  the  planks  of 
a  lumber-car,  part  of  a  freight-train  traveling 
through  the  farther  West,  rested  for  an  instant 
on  the  eyes  of  Lingo  Dan  as  he  slept  the  sleep 
of  the  careless.  Its  radiance  woke  him;  he 
rubbed  his  eyes,  gave  Billy  a  nudge  with  his  el- 
bow, and  said:  "Hello,  Billy;  here  we  are 
again !" 

"Oh,"  grunted  Billy,  viciously,  "you  be 
d  d!" 


LINGO  DAN. 


23 


"I  admit  it,  Billy;  I  probably  shall  be.  What 
for?  For  gross  incompetence  in  judging  the 
idiocy  of  a  man  in  love.  For,  I  leave  it  to  any 
one,  is  it  conceivable  that  any  one  but  a  luna- 
tic would  start  upon  a  voyage  for  life,  with  a 
life-companion,  without  a  sou  in  his  pocket?  A 
lunatic,  Billy,  is,  as  I  now  see,  a  simile  for  a 
man  in  love.  Billy,  when  I  was  at  college  I 
played  tennis ;  in  tennis,  love  means  nothing.  It 
is  the  same  here.  Let  us  go  to  sleep  again. 
Great  Greeley! — without  a  sou — without  a 
souT 

Turning  over,  they  went  to  sleep  again. 


CHAPTER  II 


IN  WHICH  THE  DIGNITY  OF  HONEST  LABOR  AND 
CHEQUE  BOOKS  IS  ELOQUENTLY 
SET  FORTH 

To  the  sound  of  the  rattling  husks  being 
pulled  from  the  yellow  maize  came  the  voice 
of  Lingo  Dan. 

"It  is  passing  wonderful/'  he  said,  "what  a 
fascination  your  industry  has  for  me,  Billy! 
There  is  something  so  rare,  so  unusual,  so  bi- 
zarre, about  it !  Indeed,  this  past  month  or  so 
— how  quaint  our  lives  have  been.  We  have 
been  engaged  in  honest  toil  " 

"You,  eh?"  Billy  grunted,  and  stuffed  some 
husks  into  a  sack  so  viciously  that  the  sharp 
edges  of  the  dry  leaves  cut  his  hand  like  a  knife. 
"Yes,  you  have — like  Hell!"  He  wiped  the 
scarred  hand  across  his  hair. 

"My  good  Billy,  you  forget  the  ethic  basis 
of  the  division  of  labor.  It  is  true  that  yours 
has  been  of  the  hands — here  is  a  handkerchief, 
Billy,  to  bind  over  that  somewhat  unsightly 
cut;  a  kerchief  washed  by  Miss  Molly's  own 
fair  hands,  I  dare  say — while  mine  has  been  of 


LINGO  DAN. 


25 


the  head.  I  have  been  planning  our  deliver- 
ance, Billy.  Do  you  think  these  elaborations 
come  to  me  of  their  own  accord?  You  judge 
me  too  highly."  He  stretched  his  legs  out  at 
full  length,  and,  his  hands  clasped  behind  his 
head,  stared  out  through  a  chink  of  the  log- 
built  crib.  He  sighed.  From  without  came 
the  monotonous  buzzing  of  the  cotton  gin. 
"Why  is  it,  Billy,"  he  went  on,  "that  we  can 
not  find  contentment  in  these  peaceful  ways  of 
life?  Think,  Billy — to  watch  the  white  fluffs 
of  cotton  blossoming  on  one's  own  land;  to 
hear  the  wind  whispering  in  the  aisles  of  one's 
own  cornfield ;  to  feel  that  just  so  much  of  fair 
fresh  air  and  sunshine  was  one's  own — were  it 
not  pleasant? — I  beg  your  pardon?  Oh — 
really,  Billy,  your  language  is  scarce  academic. 
But  you  are  right — we  hardly  seem  the  proper 
figures  for  that  setting.  We  lack  some  atom  of 
the  elemental  human ;  we  are  the  victims  of  our 
versatilities."  For  a  time  there  was  no  sound 
save  that  of  the  savage  ripping  with  which 
Billy  denuded  the  ears  of  corn.  Then  the  other 
spoke  again,  in  a  voice  from  which  the  abstract 
and  the  dreamy  was  suddenly  absent.  "You 
are  sure  we  were  not  noticed  that  Sunday  ?" 
"Sure !"  said  Billy. 

"And  that  you  have  your  part  of  the  busi- 
ness well  in  mind?" 
"Dead  easy." 


26 


LINGO  DAN. 


"Then  it  becomes  merely  a  question  as  to 
how  soon  that  coquette,  Opportunity,  chooses 
to  beckon  to  us.  Hush  a  moment,  Billy !  Yes, 
our  friend,  the  Deacon,  approaches." 

Billy  handed  over  a  sack  that  was  half  full 
of  the  corn  shucks.  When  the  farmer  whose 
hired  men  these  two  were,  opened  the  door  of 
the  crib  and  called  them  to  dinner,  Lingo  Dan 
was  husking  the  one  ear  of  corn  that  had  en- 
gaged his  attention  that  day. 

When  his  daughter  Mollie  was  setting  the 
table  for  supper  that  evening,  Sam  Travis,  fa- 
miliar to  the  fellow  members  of  his  church  as 
Deacon  Travis,  came  in  from  the  kitchen 
chuckling  to  himself.  "Been  a'figuring  things 
out,"  he  said,  "and  dinged  if  the  two  of  'em's 
done  a  speck  more'n  one  man's  work  o'  shuck- 
ing that  there  corn!  One  man's  work — and 
we  feeds  the  two  of  'em.  But  the  fact  is  I  sort 
er  reckin  listening  to  the  tall  cuss  is  as  good  as 
reading  a  magazine.  Ever  know  sech  a  gift  o' 
gab,  Mollie?" 

"No.    But  he  never  learnt  it  on  a  farm!" 

"That's  right,  too,  Moll;  but  I  ain't  a'going 
to  make  no  man's  past  lead  me  to  the  sin  of 
curiosity,  Moll  —  leastwise  not  in  Texas. 
Ah — h !  Wish  your  mother  was  alive  to  smell 
that  cornbread  o'  yours,  Moll !" 

Molly  smiled  with  pleasure.  But  as  the 
others  came  in,  and  while  she  moved  about 
serving  the  dishes,  her  face  took  on  lines  of 


LINGO  DAN. 


27 


pain.  Presently  her  father  noticed  that  she 
was  making  the  merest  pretence  of  eating. 
"Ain't  you  well,  Moll  ?"  he  asked. 

"One  o'  my  headaches,  dad,"  was  the  girl's 
answer. 

"Too  bad!  An'  to-morrow  Sunday!  The 
first  Sunday  'the  month;  an'  me  not  there  to 
pass  the  plate !"  Deacon  Travis  passed  his  cup 
for  more  tea,  and  sighed  sadly. 

"I'm  sorry,  dad.  Can't  you  go  without  me?" 

"No — sir !  Not  much !  Got  to  see  to  your 
having  camphor  on  your  forehead  right 
along." 

There  was  a  coughing  noise  from  Lingo 
Dan.  "If  you  really  find  yourself  unable  to  go, 
would  it  be  asking  too  much,  might  the  buggy 
be  allowed  to  take  my  companion  and  myself  to 
holy  worship?  It  is — not  often,"  he  paused 
and  smiled  wistfully  at  the  Deacon,  "that  we 
have  a  chance." 

Deacon  Travis  looked  pleased.  "Sure  thing, 
you  can  have  the  team.  Never  thought  you 
was  given  to  churchgoing ;  might  'er  asked  you 
before.    Sure  you  know  the  way?" 

"Perfectly;  it  is  very  kind  of  you." 

When  they  were  alone  with  each  other  once 
more,  Deacon  Travis  remarked  to  his  daughter 
that  it  was  perhaps  a  sort  of  special  Providence 
that  had  given  her  a  headache,  so  that  two 
thirsty  souls  might  have  an  opportunity  to 
drink  of  the  spiritual  waters  of  the  Word. 


28 


LINGO  DAN. 


Which  philosophic  point  of  view,  however,  was 
not  completely  cheering  to  Miss  Mollie  herself. 

The  little  frame  church,  where  the  farmers 
of  that  region  are  wont  to  congregrate  every 
Sunday,  stands  on  a  slight  lift  of  the  prairie, 
where  a  narrow  cross  road  leaves  the  North 
Road  for  the  mountains.  Nowhere  else  in  the 
world  would  these  hills  be  termed  mountains ; 
but  here,  contrasting  vividly  enough  with  the 
monotonous  level  of  the  prairie,  they  seem 
somehow,  to  merit  the  title  easily  enough. 
Cedar-clad,  these  mountains  make  the  horizon, 
at  one  point  of  the  compass  at  least,  green  and 
fresh  and  picturesque.  In  the  hot  days,  that  are 
the  rule  in  Texas,  the  shade  of  these  cedars  be- 
comes a  veritable  oasis  for  travelers  whose  road 
takes  them  in  that  direction. 

And  it  may  be  possible  that  many  of  the  good 
farm  folk  being  driven  churchward  that  bright, 
torrid  Sunday  morning,  would  have  preferred, 
in  their  heart  of  hearts,  the  cool  of  the  cedar 
mountains  to  the  hot  church  benches.  Still,  if 
such  thoughts  came  to  them  while  the  white 
dust  skurried  with  and  behind  their  wheels, 
they  put  them  away  again  as  speedily  as  possi- 
ble. They  felt  that  they  had  every  right  to  be 
proud  of  having  a  church  at  all.  There  were 
communities,  in  the  same  county,  and  not  such 
a  vast  distance  away,  either,  that  were  as  god- 
less as  they  were  unprosperous.  To  feel  that 
their  own  congregation  was  one  made  up  of 


LINGO  DAN. 


29 


well-to-do  folk,  and  to  drive  through  the  fields 
that  showed  such  bountiful  harvests  was  to 
be  glad.,  also,  that  they  had  had  the  grace,  years 
ago,  to  call  to  them  a  clergyman  from  the  East, 
to  build  a  church,  to  support  it  in  every  fitting, 
and,  frequently,  many  a  magnificent  way.  Good 
fortune,  or  good  judgment,  had  ordained  that 
the  Rev.  Martin  Dawson  prove  himself  exactly 
the  best  pastor  in  the  world  for  that  commu- 
nity. He  was  an  oldish  man,  not  too  much  the 
doctrinarian,  a  pleasant  companion  personally, 
and  popular  not  only  with  the  members  of  his 
congregation,  but  with  the  Eastern  folk  he  had 
left  when  coming  to  Texas.  His  popularity, 
and  the  pleasant  manner  of  his  life  reacted  hap- 
pily upon  his  congregation  in  another  direction. 
After  his  old  college  chum,  the  Rev.  James 
Langan,  had  paid  him  a  visit  some  years  ago, 
such  glowing  reports  had  been  taken  back  East 
that  thereafter  this  little  Texas  farm  commu- 
nity had  constantly  the  advantage  of  hearing 
many  really  admirable  preachers  in  their  little 
church.  When  their  good  pastor  arose  as  the 
services  opened,  and  introduced  to  them  his 
"brother  in  the  Lord''  from  say  Hartford,  and 
there  followed  a  sermon  as  elequent  as  occurs 
in  the  towns  only  where  the  pew  rents  are  based 
on  such  incomes  as  millionaires  have,  these 
good  people  were  no  longer  surprised.  They 
listened,  with  interest  and  gratitude,  and 
thanked  fortune  once  more  for  giving  them 


3Q 


LINGO  DAN. 


such  a  pastor.  As  for  the  visiting  clergymen, 
such  visits  to  their  old  friend  Dawson  were  by 
way  of  holiday.  That  none  of  these  visitors 
were  the  kind  that  might  attempt  any  discourse 
tinctured  with  indoor  rather  than  outdoor  the- 
ology, was  a  point  rigorously  watched  by  Mr. 
Dawson. 

The  Rev.  Martin  Dawson  was  a  bachelor. 
Alone  with  an  old  servant,  who  now  acted  as 
sexton,  verger  and  church  warden  rolled  into 
one,  he  lived  in  a  small  house  some  two  miles 
from  the  church,  on  the  road  that  eventually 
passed  Sam  Travis'  farm.  Every  Sunday 
morning  these  two  old  people  betook  them- 
selves with  surplice  and  sermon  into  the  little 
road  wagon,  and  allowed  a  lazy,  easy-going 
grey  mare  to  convey  them  leisurely  to  church. 
Then  followed  the  duties  of  the  day;  the  min- 
ister prayed  and  preached,  his  servant  took  up 
the  collection.  There  were  some  moments  in 
which  the  minister,  his  surplice  laid  aside,  chat- 
ted cheerily  with  the  members  of  his  congre- 
gation, refusing,  perhaps,  many  an  invitation 
to  dinner,  and  then  home  again,  behind  the 
grey  mare  to  convey  them  leisurely  to  church. 
Frequently,  to  be  sure,  there  was  the  clerical 
visitor  also ;  and  once  or  twice  it  had  happened 
that  the  visitor  had  come  alone  with  the  old 
servant,  the  Rev.  Dawson  being  heir  to  a  gout 
that,  at  times,  took  him  quite  off  his  feet. 


LINGO  DAN. 


31 


As  the  many  vehicle  of  various  shapes  and 
capacities  came  bowling  along  the  dusty  roads 
that  approached  the  church  from  the  different 
points  of  the  compass,  one  young  farmer  with 
sharper  eyes  than  most  people  have,  identified 
a  buggy  that  was  coming  at  right  angles  to  his 
own. 

'There's  the  Travis  rig,"  he  remarked  to  his 
wife. 

"Mollie's  been  promising  me  a  recipe  for 
putting  up  Alexandrias ;  I  hope  to  goodness  she 
ain't  forgot  it  today." 

"I  reckon,"  he  went  on,  "you'll  have  to  wait 
for  that  recipe.  It's  the  Travis  rig,  but  it  ain't 
the  folks.  Looks  more  like  some  of  parson's 
friends." 

"Shaw — I'm  sorry !  One  of  Moll's  head- 
aches, I  guess."   And  they  drove  on,  joggeclly. 

In  the  Travis  buggy,  Lingo  Dan  was  dis- 
coursing on  the  curious  inconsistencies  in  hu- 
man nature. 

"A  dear  old  soul,  that  parson !  Eh,  Billy — 
a  dear  old  soul!  But  only  human,  after  all. 
No  strength  of  spiritual  warp  can  break  the 
bonds  imposed  by  such  coarse  creature  things 
as — as  ourselves.  I  hardly  think  it  likely  he 
can  break  that  rope  unaided.  And  as  for  the 
partner  of  the  righteous  household,  I  believe 
you  corded  him  up  pretty  securely,  didn't  you, 
Billy?  Yes,  I  think  we  may  be  sure  they  are 
safely  fettered  for  a  while.    Quite  allegorical, 


32 


LINGO  DAN. 


this  act  of  ours,  Billy ;  do  you  not  note  the  al- 
legory? The  fetters  of  the  flesh — fetters  of  the 
flesh;  if  your  education,  Billy,  had  not  been 
shamefully  neglected,  you  would  find  many  a 
Sunday  school  memory  in  that  dear  old  phrase : 
The  fetters  of  the  flesh.  In  a  measure  I  regret 
that  force  was  necessary.  A  crude  thing,  after 
all,  is  force.  If  one  had  been  able  to  obtain 
their  promises,  their  holy  oaths — how  much 
finer,  how  much  more  of  the  age  of  Honor! 
But  that — that  was  impossible.  A  dear  old 
soul!  But  short  in  his  breath — very  short! 
And  then  the  inconsistency  of  him — did  you 
note  that  ?  While  he  thought  we  merely  came 
for  common  robbery,  he  seemed  to  feel  little, 
save,  perhaps  regret  for  our  misguided  ways ; 
but  the  instant  I  laid  hands  on  his  sermon  and 
his  surplice — Olympus,  that  was  a  mighty 
rage,  eh,  Billy!  I  was  glad  I  had  him  bound 
by  that  time;  had  he  been  free  just  then,  his 
rage — there  is  no  telling  what  the  dear  old  soul 
might  not  have  done.  A  wonderfully  incon- 
sistent thing,  human  nature !  Faceted  like  the 
brilliant;  as  full  of  surprises  as — the  weather!" 

During  all  this  monologue,  jerked  out  with 
sudden  silences,  and  laughings,  at  intervals, 
Billy  sat  stolidly  binding  a  handkerchief  about 
one  hand. 

"Bit  me,"  he  growled,  "old  beast!" 

"Hush,  Billy !  A  sexton — your  late  antagon- 
ist— a  sexton,  a  man  whose  solemn  office  it  is 


LINGO  DAN. 


33 


to  aid  materially  the  Last,  the  Great  Divorce — 
the  soul's  decree  of  separation  from  the  body — 
to  call  such  a  man  a — a  beast — oh,  Billy !" 

As  they  neared  the  church  their  eyes  caught 
gladly  the  sight  of  the  numerous  vehicles 
standing  about  the  fence,  and  approaching  on 
the  different  highways. 

"It  is  a  case  of  'Auspice  Deo,'  "  Lingo  Dan 
went  on.  "Eh,  Billy?  Nil  desperandum,  aus- 
pice Deo !  Observe  what  a  pleasant  congre- 
gation we  are  to  have.  Glorious,  glorious !  You 
have  the  key  to  the  vestry  ?" 

"Right  here,"  Billy  tapped  his  pocket. 

"And  for  my  part — how  delightful  are  the 
ways  and  means  of  modern  civilization  some- 
times— the  dear  old  soul's  sermon  is  typewrit- 
ten !  Although,"  and  here  the  speaker  lowered 
his  voice,  as  if  unwilling  to  parade  whatever 
had  the  least  glimmer  of  vanity  about  it,  "I  dare 
say  I  should  not  be  so  utterly  bad  at  an  im- 
promptu. I  have  known  the  time — in  days  that 
are  now  dead — " 

"And  buried!"  This  came  from  Billy  like  a 
fierce  reproach.  It  was  evident  that  gropings 
into  the  past  had  no  more  charms  for  him. 

Lingo  Dan  looked  slightly  hurt.  "True — 
most  true.  How  close  to  the  mark  you  do 
shoot,  Billy — never  a  divergence,  never  a  stroll 
into  the  abstract — ah,  sometimes  I  believe  I 
envy  you,  Billy." 


34 


LINGO  DAN. 


But  Billy  only  grunted.  It  was  the  grunt  of 
unbelief. 

In  a  few  moments  they  had  reached  the  ves- 
try door.  Billy  hitched  a  rope  from  the  bridle 
to  the  fence.  Then  he  opened  the  vestry  door, 
and  the  two  of  them  stepped  in.  Billy  noted 
with  dull  astonishment  that  his  partner  slipped 
into  the  surplice  with  apparent  knowledge  of 
its  technicque.  Then  the  organ  began  the  ser- 
vices of  the  day. 

When  the  music  ceased,  a  tall,  pale  figure 
arose  beside  the  desk  that  faced  the  altar  rail- 
ings. 

"Dearly  beloved  brethren,"  said  the  strange 
clergyman,  "my  portion  in  these  services  was 
merely  to  have  been  the  sermon,  but  sudden  in- 
dispostion  coming  to  your  good  pastor,  Mr. 
Dawson,  I  am  here  to  make  what  shift  I  can  as 
substitute." 

There  was  a  pause.  The  speaker's  eyes 
swept  about  the  church.  Every  seat  was  taken. 
But  in  every  face  he  saw  nothing  save  kind  en- 
couragement. Far  in  the  last  row,  deep  in 
shadows,  loomed  the  face  of  him  that  was  called 
Billy.  All  this  the  clergyman  saw  in  a  flash. 
Then  he  began,  in  the  conventional  voice  of  the 
preacher : 

"Dearly  beloved  brethren,  the  Scripture 
moveth  us  in  sundry  places — "  and  thereafter 
the  services  continued  drowsily  and  perfunc- 
torially.    There  was  nothing  to  show  that  the 


LINGO  DAN. 


35 


official  of  the  occasion  was  not  versed  and 
practiced  in  these  devotional  functions.  At 
times  the  congregation  caught  a  note  of  fervor, 
of  loving  emphasis  placed  on  some  phrase  that 
was  more  than  usually  freighted  with  the 
poetry  that  informs  the  Prayer  book;  in  the 
mere  elocution  of  the  man  they  scented  a  ser- 
mon that  would  make  them  forget  even  the 
stifling  heat. 

From  outside  came  the  occasional  whinny- 
ing of  a  horse,  and  the  pawing  of  impatient 
feet.  Beyond  that,  only  the  heat,  quivering 
against  the  fences  in  visible  form. 

On  the  back  bench  Billy  was  exerting  the 
last  vestiges  of  his  self-control  to  keep  from 
snoring. 

When  the  general  "Amen"  had  closed  the 
rehearsal  of  the  Creed,  the  preacher  moved  to 
the  pulpit.  With  bowed  head  he  stood  silent 
for  some  seconds.  Then  he  folded  his  sermon 
to  his  liking.  As  he  read  the  text  he  flushed 
for  a  space,  but  his  voice  never  faltered.  It 
was  from  the  gospel  of  St.  Matthew,  and  it 
read : 

"Beware  of  false  prophets,  which  come  to 
you  in  sheep's  clothing." 

It  was  a  pity  that  the  Rev.  Dawson  could  not 
have  heard  the  eloquent  delivery  his  sermon 
was  given  by  his  locum  tenens.  Use  blunts  the 
faculties  somewhat,  and  it  is  certain  that  had 
its  actual  author  preached  this  sermon  it  had 


36 


LINGO  DAN. 


not  seemed  half  so  powerful.  As  it  was,  each 
word,  each  phrase  had  behind  it  all  the  ner- 
vous vigor  of  a  musical  voice,  a  mind  at  high 
tension. 

As  he  turned  to  the  final  page  of  the  sermon 
an  agonizing  suspicion  crossed  the  ear  and  the 
mind  of  the  preacher.  Was  that  a  snore  from 
the  back  bench? 

If  even  the  faintest  chance  of  such  a  thing- 
existed,  it  was  necessary  to  grasp  measures  of 
force.  Into  the  mere  reading  of  another  man's 
words  it  was  possible  to  infuse  but  a  limited 
amount  of  enthusiasm,  after  all. 

Ostentatiously  he  closed  the  pamphlet  from 
which  he  had  been  delivering  his  sermon.  With 
eyes  roving  soulfully  about  the  faces  before 
him,  he  brought  his  voice  to  its  most  musical, 
gripping  pitch. 

"And  so,  my  brethren,"  he  exhorted,  "sixth- 
ly and  lastly,  we  approach  the  lesson  to  be 
learned.  What  is  so  rampant  in  the  world  to- 
day, as  this  hypocrisy,  this  wearing  of  the 
mask,  the  borrowed  plume  that  Matthew 
warned  against  in  the  words  of  the  text.  The 
face  is  given  man  oft-times  but  to  hide  the 
soul.  New  doctrines  come  and  go;  men  prate 
of  new  religion  and  new  science;  the  traders 
on  the  world's  trend-to-believe  make  bargains 
in  the  market  place.  And  who,  of  us  here,  dare 
say  that  some  time  in  his  life  he  has  not  played 
the  hypocrite?    Have  all  of  us  worn  naught 


LINGO  DAN. 


37 


save  these  same  garments,  material  and  spirit- 
ual, that  we  stand  in  now  ?  It  is  the  one  beset- 
ting sin;  the  cancer  that  is  eating  wholesome 
candor  from  the  world.  Here,  in  the  open  air, 
under  the  clear  sky,  you  think  the  wearing  of 
the  mask  can  be  but  rarely.  You  err;  the 
mask  is  worn,  in  city  or  in  country.  Look  to 
your  hearts  and  find  the  answer  there.  Look — " 
His  voice  roared  up  against  the  rafters,  so 
that  there  was  a  quick  shuffling  heard  from  the 
rear  bench,  and  the  preacher's  straining  eyes 
caught  the  shine  of  Billy's  amazement,  and  to 
himself  he  actually  thanked  God !  "Look — 
deep  in  to  your  hearts !" 

With  something  like  a  sob  in  his  breath,  the 
preacher  turned  his  face  to  the  East.  "And 
now  to  the  Father"  muttered  his  voice.  With 
the  suspense  over,  the  ring  of  eloquence  was  no 
longer  necessary. 

Then  he  turned  to  the  table,  looking  ap- 
parently heavenwards,  actually  at  Billy.  As 
the  latter  lumbered  up  the  aisle,  the  preacher 
droned  in  his  monotone,  standing  with  his 
hands  folded  in  front  of  him. 

"Let  your  light  so  shine  before  men,  that 
they  may  see  your  good  works." 
.  With  these  well-known  texts,  he  proceeded 
the  while  Billy  passed  the  wooden  plate  ner- 
vously up  and  down  the  pews.  The  envelopes 
containing  the  contributions  fell  with  a  shuf- 
fling sound  of  paper  upon  paper.    There  were 


38 


LINGO  DAN. 


no  casuals  in  this  congregation;  the  actual 
sight  of  coin  was  hardly  ever  obtruded. 

At  last  the  collection  was  over.  The  plate, 
heaped  up  with  white  riches,  stood  beside  the 
railing  of  the  chancel.  The  preacher  raced  to 
the  benediction. 

After  that,  with  a  change  in  his  voice,  he 
came  forward  a  step,  and  said : 

"If  the  congregation  will  wait  a  few  mo- 
ments, I  shall  be  glad  to  meet  the  individual 
members  of  it  personally." 

Those  who  watched  him  closely  always  de- 
clared that  he  had  the  most  winning  smile  they 
had  ever  seen. 

Then,  with  a  quick  snatch  of  the  collection 
plate  he  hurried  into  the  vestry.  Into  a  corner 
went  the  surplice. 

"Thank  the  Lord,"  he  whispered  to  himself, 
"that  this  stuff's  all  folded  in  paper.  Makes  less 
noise. "  He  slipped  the  money  into  a  handker- 
chief and  opened  the  outer  door  cautiously. 

Another  second  or  two  and  the  Travis 
buggy  was  whirling  over  the  highway  to  the 
mountains,  a  cloud  of  dust  concealing  it. 

In  the  church  the  congregation  awaited  their 
meeting  with  one  of  the  most  eloquent  preach- 
ers they  had  heard  in  many  a  day. 

******** 

Several  hours  later,  after  a  forced  march 
through  cedar  brush  that  hid  all    tracks  im- 


LINGO  DAN. 


39 


penetrably,  Lingo  Dan  and  Billy  stopped  be- 
side a  mountain  spring. 

Spreading  the  contribution  envelopes  out  on 
the  cool  rocks  in  the  shadow  of  the  hill  that 
held  the  spring,  Lingo  Dan  proceeded  to  open 
them,  to  count  the  gains  from  their  adventure. 

Billy  got  up  with  an  oath. 

Lingo  Dan  lay  back  on  his  back  and  roared 
with  laughter.  When  he  had  breath  enough, 
he  said :  "But  Billy,  do  you  count  the  sen- 
sation as  nothing?" 

Every  contribution  was  a  check. 


CHAPTER  III 

WHICH   EXPOSES   SOME  OF   THE  VICISSITUDES 
THAT  MAY  BEFALL  A  COUNTRY 
SHERIFF 

The  sheriff  changed  his  rifle  from  his  right 
arm  to  his  left,  and  crossed  his  legs.  He  looked 
down  the  street  nervously.  He  tried  whistling. 
But  that  did  not  seem  to  soothe.  Then  from  the 
corridor  behind  him,  came  the  faint  fume  of  a 
cigar  that  had  certainly  never  been  bought  in 
Clay  Oak. 

A  breath  or  two  of  amused  profanity  came 
from  the  Sheriff's  lips.  "Danged  if  the  cuss 
ain't  smoking  perfectos  in  there,  and  me  'most 
so  nervous  I  can't  sit  still!"  He  gave  a  little 
laugh  and  opened  his  nostrils  to  the  scent  of 
the  cigar.  "Kinder  soothin',"  he  remarked  to 
himself. 

Half  a  mile  down  the  street  a  little  blue  flag 
was  fluttering  in  the  breeze.  It  seemed  to  de- 
pend from  a  rod  that  was  fastened  to  a  fence, 
or  projected  from  a  window ;  at  that  distance  it 
was  impossible  to  distinguish  aught  save  the 
little  bit  of  azure  itself.    The  Sheriff's  eyes 


LINGO  DAN. 


41 


rested  constantly  on  the  flag.  Now  and  again 
his  gaze  attempted  adventuring  elsewhere,  but 
some  magnetism  turned  it  always  to  the  flag 
again.  The  Sheriff's  thoughts  were  as  active 
as  quicksilver.  If  he  had  voiced  them  they 
would  have  been  something  like  this  : 

"I'd  liever  they'd  just  concluded  to  surprise 
me  than  give  me  due  warning  with  that  there 
rag.  Just  don't  seem  able  to  keep  my  eyes 
offen  it.  Danged  thing  gives  me  the  shivers. 
....  But,  come  the  worst,  I'll  do  my  duty.  And 
I  reckon  the  boys  they  know  that.  Not  that 
I'm  putting  any  blame  on  them.  No.  If  so  be 
as  I  wasn't  Sheriff  I  don't  know  but  what  I'd 
be  over  yonder  myself,  waiting,  and  my  hand 
on  the  rope,  and — .  But  I'm  Sheriff  of  this 
county." 

With  whch  summing  up  the  watcher  on  the 
veranda  of  the  Clay  County  jail  continued  his 
observance  of  the  far-off  patch  of  blue. 

"I  hope,"  said  a  soft  and  suave  voice 
presently,  from  somewhere  in  the  dark  building 
behind  the  Sheriff,  "that  you  will  consider  me 
nothing  but  solicitous  for  your  peace  of  mind 
if  I  offer  you  a  cigar.  I  seem  to  observe  that 
you  are  nervous." 

The  Sheriff  laughed  staccato.  "Maybe  I 
am,"  he  said,  "maybe  I  am.  Though  it's  you 
that  has  the  most  cause."  He  hesitated  an  in- 
stant or  two,  and  then  continued :  "I  don't 
know  but  what  I  will  trouble  you  for  some  o' 


42 


LINGO  DAN. 


them  seegars.  I  reckon  I  don't  have  to  ask 
you  how  you  come  by  it." 

"No,"  said  the  voice,  "your  immediate  du- 
ties hardly  include  that." 

They  both  smoked  in  silence  for  a  time. 
Then  the  voice  from  within  began  again.  "If 
you  will  allow  me,"  it  said,  "I  must  congratu- 
late you  on  being  in  charge  of  what  I,  as  a  con- 
noisseur, have  no  hesitation  in  pronouncing 
the  cleanest — er — little  hostelry  in  my  experi- 
ence." 

"Meaning  the  jail  ?"  said  the  Sheriff.  "Well 
I  guess  you're  about  right.  Fact  is,  this  county 
ain't  hardly  got  no  use  for  it.  Take  it  in 
twelve  months  and  there  ain't  enough  doing 
— in  your  line" — he  waved  his  cigar  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  inner  chambers — "in  all  of  Clay 
County  to  keep  the  jail  open  two  months.  But 
the  'joining  counties  sends  us  in  what  they  ain't 
got  room  for,  every  once  in  a  while,  and  I  earns 
my  salary  one  way  and  another."  He  took  a 
few  whiffs  at  the  cigar,  looked  at  it  lovingly, 
and  continued  :  "Last  week  the  Christian  En- 
deavor Society  held  its  meeting  here." 

"I  assure  you,"  responded  the  other  smoker, 
"that  my  regret  at  destroying  so  peaceable  a 
routine  is  infinite.  I  am  really  most  wonder- 
fully sorry.  If  it  had  not  been  for  me,  you 
might,  I  dare  say,  even  now  be  guarding  noth- 
ing more  dangerous  than  a  meeting  of  a  Chris- 
tian Endeavor  Society.    Moreover,  I  see  this 


LINGO  DAN. 


43 


little  affair  is  getting  onto  your  nerves.  If  I 
could  only  suggest  something  that  I  could  do 
to  alleviate  the  annoyances  I  bring  upon  you !" 
He  paused  and  sighed  audibly.  "What  a  sur- 
passingly peaceable  community  this  must  be!" 

"You  bet  it  is,  stranger !  We  got  more  eddi- 
cation,  more  peace  and  prosperity  right  here 
in  this  county  than  in  any  spot  on  this  earth,  I 
do  believe."  The  Sheriff's  rifle-butt  came  down 
on  the  floor  of  the  veranda  with  a  loud  crash. 
"Damn  it,  what  d'you  want  to  come  around 
here  for,  you  and  that  cursed  partner  of  yours  ? 
Gol  darn  you  both  for  thieves  and  murderers !" 

His  voice  hesitated  a  little  before  the  last 
word. 

In  the  matter  of  your  last  epithet,"  said  the 
inmate  of  the  jail,  "are  you  rigidly  exact,  or  do 
you — allow  a  temporary  wave  of  passion  to 
sweep  you  over  the  bar  of  fact?" 

The  Sheriff  gaped  an  instant  or  two. 
"Wonder  if  he  wasn't  in  the  traveling  dentist 
business  once?"  he  thought.  Then,  his  mind 
having  groped  through  the  other's  maze  of 
verbiage,  he  replied : 

"Well,  no;  the  parson  ain't  dead  yet.  And 
if  you've  got  any  kind  of  a  knack  at  pray  in' 
you  can  just  pray  that  little  old  flag  down  yon- 
der don't  go  to  droppin  about  this  time  of 
day.  'Cos  that'll  mean  the  parson's  gone,  an' 
you're — ." 


44 


LINGO  DAN. 


"Forgive  me,"  came  the  soft  interruption, 
"if  I  seem  rude  in  my  slowness,  but — let  me 
understand  you  clearly.  If  the  flag  drops  that 
is  the  signal  of  the  Reverend — I  am  ignorant 
of  his  name;  the  honor  of  an  introduction  was 
not  vouchsafed  me — having  pased  into  the — 
the  beyond?  It  is.  Thank  you.  And 
further — 

"And  further  that's  the  time  you  can  do 
your  pray  in'.  For  the  boys  give  it  out  to  me 
that  if  the  old  man  was  to  pass  in  his  checks 
they  wasn't  proposing  to  wait  for  the  next  term 
of  court  as  far  as  you  was  concerned."  The 
Sheriff"  looked  critically  at  his  cigar  and  tilted 
his  chair  back  so  that  he  could  cross  his  feet 
over  the  railing  of  the  veranda  and  rest  the 
barrel  of  his  rifle  between  his  boots. 

From  the  inside  of  the  jail  came  the  noise  of 
some  one  walking  rapidly  up  and  down,  up  and 
down.  Then  that  noise  ceased,  and  gave  way 
to  the  sound  of  speech. 

"In  other  words,  this  exemplary  community 
— this  model  of  what  I  think  you  called  peace 
and  prosperity — purposes  to  make  use  of  the 
somewhat — pardon  me  if  I  seem  frank ! — 
somewhat  primitive  methods  of  Judge  Lynch? 
I  am  exquisitely  pained  to  think  myself  the 
cause  of  such  a  turbulent  innovation.  Really, 
I  am  sorry." 

"You  understand,"  resumed  the  Sheriff, 
"I'm  here  to  do  my  duty.   There's  my  duty  be- 


LINGO  DAN. 


45 


fore  me  just  as  straight  as  the  street  down  to 
that  little  flag  there,  and  here's  my  gun.  The 
boys  is  all  good  friends  of  mine,  but  I  read  my 
duty  clear,  so  I  reckon  they've  got  me  to  shoot 
or  get  shot  by  before  they  gets  inside  of  this 
jail.  'Cos  I'll  shoot,  sure  as  my  name's  Tod 
Minton !"  He  took  a  sight  along  the  barrel  of 
the  rifle  before  he  went  on,  with  a  vicious  em- 
phasis, "But  don't  you  think  I'm  doing  it  for 
any  love  of  you  !" 

"My  dear  Mr.  Minton — you  underrate  my 
sense  of  your  sanity.  You  are  really,  if  I  may 
venture  to  say  so,  something  of  an  uncommon 
nature.  I  wish  I  had  the  chance  to  see  more  of 
you.  Your  stern  devotion  to  duty  strikes  me 
as  supremely  quaint;  it  is  quite  the  expression 
of  an  elementary  adhesion  to  first  principles." 
Again  the  inmate  began  to  walk  the  floor  of 
the  jail.  "What  method,"  he  added, 
presently,  "are  your  friends  likely  to  employ?" 

"Oh,"  said  the  Sheriff,  "the  reg'lar  thing: 
limb  of  a  tree  and  a  rope." 

"Ah!  Again  the  exquisitely  simple  es- 
sentials !"  The  prisoner  resumed  his  loco- 
motion. He  began  to  mutter  to  himself.  "Why 
doesn't  it  come  to  me?.  Ten  minutes  now  since 
I  began  the  search  for  the  way  out !  There  is  a 
way — I  know  there  is  a  way!  There  is  always 
a  way  for  the  wise.  The  gods  grant  that  that 
rascal  Billy  is  staying  within  reach!  Why 
doesn't  it  come  to  me — why,  why?" 


46 


LINGO  DAN. 


From  outside  came  the  sound  of  the  Sheriff 
coughing.  Next,  he  attempted  to  sing  a  line  of 
a  hymn. 

What  a  curiously  high-pitched  voice  the  fel- 
low has,  thought  the  prisoner.  And  with  that 
he  stood  suddenly  still.  A  smile  crept  along 
the  corners  of  his  mouth,  and  he  blew  a  ring 
of  smoke  into  the  air  with  a  skill  that  be- 
tokened sudden  complete  peace."  Wonderful," 
he  thought,  "are  the  ways  of  Providence. 
Some  day  I  should  be  glad  of  the  leisure  suf- 
ficient to  let  me  put  forth  a  monograph  on  the 
manifold  protections  Providence  has  accorded 
me."  He  stepped  to  the  barred  door,  and  si- 
lently surveyed  the  Sheriff.  "He  is  about  my 
height,"  he  mused.  "For  the  rest — it's  merely 
a  matter  of  the  voice.  Perhaps,  after  all,  the 
days  when  I  went  barnstorming  are  to  bear  in- 
terest." 

Along  the  street  the  shadows  were  lengthen- 
ing. Presently  the  sun  hung  against  the  ho- 
rizon, a  huge  ruddy  disk,  with  the  blue  flag 
spotting  its  centre.  It  was  like  the  bull's-eye  on 
a  target. 

"Mr.  Minton!" 

The  Sheriff  looked  back  over  one  shoulder. 
"Well?" 

"Concerning  these  friends  of  yours — the 
gentlemen  with  the  crude  intentions  in  the  di- 
rection of  my  humble  self — do  you  object  to 
my  expressing  a  curiosity!    Time's  wings  are 


LINGO  DAN. 


47 


tied  for  me,  just  now.  Anything  as  a  distrac- 
tion— anything,  even  curiosity!  What  are 
some  of  their  names ?  Who  are  they?  If  I 
were  a  little  boy,  I  should  say :  Tell  me  a  story ; 
make  me  forget  the  actual.  As  it  is — satisfy 
my  curiosity.    It  s  a  whim — a  foolish  fancy." 

"Well,"  replied  the  Sheriff,  "I  don't  see  as 
it'll  do  you  any  good,  but  it  certainly  ain't  go- 
ing to  do  me  no  harm.  Some  of  the  boys? 
Well,  there's  Jake  Farren,  he  runs  the  O.  K. 
Store,  and  breeds  setter  dogs.  And  Jim  Overs, 
he's  in  the  berry  raising  business,  and  his  little 
girl,  Mattie,  does  most  of  the  work.  They'll 
surely  be  on  hand,  I  reckon.  And  Marsh 
Quisenby,  and  Alec  Grant,  and — ." 

From  a  little  distance  off  came  the  double 
signal  of  a  passenger  train. 

"There's  Number  7,"  the  Sheriff  interpo- 
lated.   "It's  getting  'most  evening  now." 

"And  what,"  asked  the  prisoner,  "is  Num- 
ber 7?" 

"Number  7's  the  westbound  passenger.  She 
stops  up  here  at  the  junction  for  half  an  hour, 
to  wait  for  Number  10,  eastbound.  They  cross 
here." 

"Thank  you,  thank  you."  The  prisoner 
laughed  with  a  fine  ring  of  bitterness.  "They 
declare,  you  know,  that  in  the  sight  of  death 
one  evinces  the  most  ridiculous  interest  in  the 
minutiae  of  life.  I  dare  say  it  is  true."  He 
turned  from  the  door,  and  paced  up  and  down 


48 


LINGO  DAN. 


for  several  minutes.  "In  half  an  hour.  Either 
of  two  trains — in  half  an  hour.  And  that 
voice  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ^  ' ' 

Something  about  the  prisoner's  concluding 
remark,  something  in  his  bitter  laugh — the 
ring  of  which  seemed  so  true  to  the  Sheriff, 
touched  the  sympathy  of  that  official. 

"Danged  if  I  see,"  he  remarked,  "how  a  fel- 
low of  the  kind  of  advantages 't  appears  to  me 
you've  had  ever  got  so  low  down." 

"A  blindness,  my  dear  Mr.  Minton,  that 
does  you  infinite  credit.  How  are  you,  living 
in  this  quiet,  lovely,  sober  corner  of  the  world, 
to  understand  the  feverish  complexities  that 
may  be  enmeshed  in  a  life  that  spins  always  on 
the  froth  of  the  stream?  You  move  in  paths 
that  are  of  an  almost  indecent  plainness.  You 
say :  this  is  right,  and  that  is  wrong.  You  say 
that  in  attempting  to  persuade  that  aged  person 
of  my  superiority  in  ability  to  appreciate  the 
value  of  his  moneys,  I  am  a  thief  and — perhaps 
— a  murderer.  Perhaps — if  you  must  needs 
seek  exactitude  from  the  dictionary.  In  my 
world  everything  is  relative.  If  you  ask  me  if 
I  believe  in  honesty,  I  should  ask  you,  in  reply : 
Honesty  of  whom,  about  what?  There  is 
nothing  so  obvious,  yet  so  generally  unseen,  as 
the  complete  relativity  of  everything.  You  say : 
this  is  a  crime;  I  say  that  it  all  depends.  If  I 
had  time,  it  would   give   me  keen   delight  to 


LINGO  DAN. 


49 


make  these  beautiful  tenets  of  the  fairer  life 
plain  to  you,  but — " 

The  speaker  stopped  suddenly,  and  the  next 
instant  the  Sheriff  heard  what  sounded  like  a 
faint  moan.    Then — 

"Oh,  my  God !"  came  from  the  inner  cell. 

After  that,  utter  stillness. 

The  Sheriff  jumped  up  from  his  chair  and 
swung  round  to  the  corridor.  In  his  haste  he 
leaned  his  rifle  against  the  trellised  wall  of  the 
veranda.  Beyond  through  the  barred  door  he 
could  see  the  prisoner's  body  lying,  a  dull  heap 
on  the  floor.  He  opened  the  door,  swinging 
its  heavy  weight  outward.  "Shock — maybe; 
maybe  heart  failure,"  he  muttered.  "Better  so, 
like  as  not."  He  advanced  to  the  body,  and 
touched  it  with  his  foot.  About  the  touch  of 
the  thing  there  seemed  to  him  something  un- 
canny, something  inelastic,  something  that 
spoke  of  dissolution.  He  stooped,  in  the  fad- 
ing light,  to  look  at  the  face. 

To  see  the  better  he  turned,  facing  the  open 
door.  The  dying  streaks  of  sunlight  shot 
across  his  sight  and  blinded  him  for  a  moment. 
Then,  from  somewhere  beneath  him,  two 
hands  gripped  his  throat,  and  he  heard  the 
note  of  a  peculiarly  extensive  whistle. 

And  then  consciousness  passed  from  the 
Sheriff. 


5° 


LINGO  DAN. 


Outside  there  was  the  sound  of  some  one 
gliding  onto  the  veranda. 

'That  you,  Billy?"  hissed  the  inmate  of  the 
jail.  "I'm — most  uncommonly  glad  to  see 
you.  Quick,  the  gag,  and  the  cord !  The  time's 
most  unpleasantly  short.  This  was  the  only 
way.  No  use  my  trying  to  evacuate  the  premi- 
ses solus,  in  these  clothes;  the  vigilant  villag- 
ers know  me  too  well.  Help  this  gentleman  off 
with  his  things,  and  on  with  mine,  Billy. 
They  don't  know  you  when  they  see  you,  do 
they?  No?  That's  good.  In  fifteen  minutes, 
trains  leave  for  East  and  West;  until  then  I 
have  a  part  to  play.  Do  the  Sheriff's  things  fit 
me  pretty  well  ?  Well  enough  in  this  light,  eh  ? 
Good !  Why  can't  I  cut  and  run  right  now  ? 
Fool !  What  would  the  Sheriff  be  doing  away 
from  the  jail  this  time?  I'm  the  Sheriff,  Billy. 
Now — to  the  station !  I — have  an  engage- 
ment." 

Billy  crept  away  into  the  bushes.  He  who 
had  been  prisoner  stepped  out  onto  the  veranda, 
took  up  the  rifle,  and  balanced  himself  on  the 
tiptilted  chair.  He  slouched  the  Sheriff's  hat 
down  over  his  forehead,  and  waited. 

"Ah!" 

The  bull's-eye  was  gone  from  the  target. 
The  blue  flag  was  withdrawn. 

"Poor  old  soul!"  said  the  watcher  on  the 
veranda.  Then  he  added,  "But  he  shouldn't 
have  resisted!" 


LINGO  DAN 


51 


A  fume  of  dust  was  in  the  air  down  the 
shadowy  street. 

"I  opine,"  continued  the  soliloquizer,  "that 
I  am  to  be  favored  by  visitors,  Jake  Farren, 
Jim  Oyers,  Marsh  Quisenby,  Alec  Grant,  et  al., 
as  those  wearisome  legal  methods  phrase  it. 
Well,  I  trust  I  may  not,  at  this  late  date  in  my 
career,  be  accused  of  discourtesy." 

Out  of  the  cloud  of  dust  came  a  cluster  of 
human  figures.  In  the  dusk  one  could  see  that 
all  of  them  carried  shooting  weapons,  and  that 
there  were  various  efforts  at  facial  disguise. 
These  were  ineffectual,  for  the  most  part; 
mere  hangings  of  the  hat  too  low  over  the 
brow,  or  handkerchiefs  roughly  twined  about 
the  lower  face. 

"It  seems,"  mused  the  watcher  before  the 
jail,  "that  there  are  conventions,  even  in 
lynching.  Even  the  merest  debutants  feel  that 
an  unclad  face  is  in  bad  form." 

The  approaching  group  had  something  of 
solemnity  about  it.  What  sounds  it  gave  out 
were  but  rumblings  and  mutterings  below  the 
breath.  Their  feet  moved  silently  through  the 
dust  of  the  road. 

The  last  man,  the  whipper-in,  the  rear  guard, 
walked  a  few  feet  behind  the  others.  From  his 
shoulder  something  trailed,  snake-like,  in  the 
dust,  lashing  up  a  wake  of  duncolored  particles. 
In  that  light  the  trailing  something,    and  the 


52 


LINGO  DAN 


opaque  mist  over  it,  had  a  suggestion  of  un- 
canniness. 

As  the  group  assembled  before  the  jail,  form- 
ing a  sort  of  cordon  before  it,  there  came,  from 
the  veranda,  a  high-pitched  wailing  of  an  old- 
fashioned  hymn. 

"I  guess  Tod's  kinder  nervous,"  whispered 
one  of  the  outer  assembly,  "never  knew  him  to 
strike  up  'Jesus  will  carry  me  through/  but 
what  there  was  something  on  his  mind." 

Then  came  a  loud  call,  from  the  middle  of 
the  group. 

"Tod  Mintonr 

"Well?" 

"Parson's  dead." 

"Ain't  nobody  any  sorrier  'n  me." 

"You  know  what  we're  here  for,  Tod." 

"I  can  guess  pretty  close." 

"What  you  going  to  do,  Tod?" 

"Just  my  duty."  The  speaker  fingered  his 
rifle  slightly,  and  there  followed  a  metallic 
"tsk"  that  ricochetted  from  one  to  the  other 
of  the  group  outside. 

"Going  to  shoot,  Tod?" 

"What's  the  use  talkin,  boys?  You  know 
me,  and  I  know  you.  Ain't  got  one  o'  your 
setter  dogs  along  has  you,  Jake  ?  And  I  reckon 
Jim  Oversell  be  out  there,  too.  Wonder  you'd 
not  have  give  the  job  to  Mattie,  Jim.  But 
what's  the  use  wastin'  time?    You  think  you 


LINGO  DAN 


53 


got  a  duty,  I  reckon,  and,  as  for  me,  I  read  my 
duty  clear — and  here's  my  gun!" 

There  was  the  growling  of  smothered  talk. 
Then,  again : 

"He  ain't  worth  it,  Tod." 

"I  see  my  duty  clear.  None  of  my  business 
who  he  is,  or  what  he  is.  I'm  Sheriff  of  this 
county.  And  I'll  shoot,  sure  as  my  name's  Tod 
Minton." 

Outside  there  were  hurried  rumblings  again. 
"There's  only  one  thing,"  said  the  leader,  in  a 
whisper,  to  his  comrades,  "we  got  to  shoot  low. 
We  don't  want  to  hurt  him." 

There  was  the  sound  of  a  foot  touching  the 
veranda. 

"I  said  I'd  shoot,"  came  from  the  trellis. 

The  next  instant  a  Winchester  spoke  vic- 
iously. The  porch  climber  reeled,  and  fell  back- 
ward, and  then  came  a  volley  that  filled  the 
whole  world,  it  seemed,  with  smoke  and  noise. 

The  body  of  the  guardian  of  the  jail  crashed 
heavily  against  the  trellis-work,  breaking  it  and 
scattering  it.  The  figure  lay  on  the  grass,  limp, 
with  the  smoke  playing  over  it  like  a  rising 
dew. 

Over  it  and  past  it  the  attacking  party  storm- 
ed into  the  jail. 

But  one  man,  out  of  that  party,  lay  dead  in 
the  road. 


54 


LINGO  DAN 


From  the  first  shot  to  the  utter  desertion  of 
the  road  and  the  veranda  only  seconds  had 
elapsed. 

The  body  that  had  lain  limp  under  the  ver- 
anda suddenly  sprang  stealthily  to  its  feet. 
Then  there  was  a  swift  move  over  to  where 
the  other  body  lay,  stiff,  silent.  There  was  an 
exchange  of  hats  and  coats,  and  then  he  that 
had  parleyed  from  the  veranda  plunged  into 
the  darkness  that  was  between  the  jail  and  the 
railroad  station. 

Billy  was  anxiously  pacing  the  platform  a 
minute  or  so  before  the  two  trains  were  to 
start.  The  sound  of  the  firing  had  come  to  him 
and  he  was  filled  with  apprehension.  Suddenly 
a  tall  figure,  in  garments  that  he  did  not  rec- 
ognize, brushed  past  him. 

"You  go  east,  Billy,"  said  the  figure;  "I'll 
steer  to  the  west.  It'll  be  fifteen  minutes  be- 
fore they  have  sense  enough  to  wire,  and  I'll 
get  out  at  the  first  station.  Thank  the  dear 
Providence  that  watches  us  like  babes,  Billy! 
Hurry!" 

Presently  the  station  was  empty;  the  trains 
had  steamed  away.  Facing  the  west  sat  the 
tall  individual  who  had  but  now  been  an  in- 
mate of  the  Clay  County  jail. 

"Dear  Heaven,"  he  smiled  to  himself,  "I 
wonder  if  the  boards  of  any  other  stage  have 


LINGO  DAN 


55 


ever  felt  the  triumph  of  the  art  of  mimicry  so 
palpably  as  did  that  little  veranda  just  now! 
To  act — for  one's  life — ah — "  He  sank  back 
into  the  cushions  in  reflections  full  of  apprecia- 
tion of  himself — the  keenest  epicureanism  in 
the  world. 

But  in  Clay  Oak  there  are  still  men  who  will 
go  to  their  graves  swearing  that  the  man  who 
talked  to  them  from  the  veranda  of  the  jail, 
who  killed  Jim  Oyers  just  before  he  himself 
was  toppled  over  into  the  weeds  was  the  Sher- 
iff, Tod  Minton — and  no  other.  And  yet  the 
Sheriff  had  been  found,  gagged  and  bound, 
and  half-strangled,  on  the  floor  of  the  inner 
cell. 

In  Clay  Oak  they  no  longer  laugh  at  mira- 
cles. 


CHAPTER  IV 


IN  WHICH  THERE  IS  A  MEETING  OF  TWO  EM- 
PERORS, AND  IN  WHICH  THE  STARS  AND 
STRIPES  ARE  WAVED  AND  SAVED 

It  was  not  long  after  the  affair  with  the 
Sheriff  of  Clay  that  yearning,  or  necessity,  or 
both,  drove  Lingo  Dan  to  other  climes.  That 
the  taciturn  Billy  accompanied  him  goes  with- 
out saying.  Spring  found  them  in  Southamp- 
ton. 

The  night  was  bright  and  chill.  From  the 
roadway,  lined  with  cheap  lodging  houses, 
Lingo  Dan  and  Billy  slouched  through  the 
gate  that  led  to  the  docks  and  landing  stages. 
Just  inside  the  gate  was  a  board  bearing  a 
chalked  scrawl : 

"Donau,  Due  5  A.  M." 

Reaching  the  water,  the  two  men  sat  down 
on  a  luggage-truck.  Before  them  lay  the 
steamer  for  Havre,  seemingly  all  asleep.  Oc- 
casionly,  fiercely  whiskered  men  walked  up, 
looked  at  the  lantern  stuck  within  a  transpar- 
ency, that  announced  the  steamer's  destination, 
and  walked  over  the  gang-plank  to  the  deck. 
From  down  the  Solent  came  the  hooting  of 


LINGO  DAN 


57 


steamer  whistles,  and  now  and  again  some  lo- 
comotive on  the  Southwestern  screamed  shrilly 
into  the  night. 

A  benevolently- faced  dock-hand  approached 
the  two  that  sat  there  by  the  water's  edge.  He 
had  only  one  leg,  but  he  appeared  vastly  cheer- 
ful. 

"A  fine  night,  mates,"  was  his  greeting. 

"Hallo,  Springheel  Jack,  hallo !  A  fine  night, 
did  you  say?  My  friend,  I  call  no  night  in 
Southampton  fine.  Believe  me,  I  consider  this 
the  jumping-off  place  of  the  world.  Why,  oh 
why,  in  the  name  of  all  things  wonderful,  do 
sane  people  live  here?" 

Springheel  Jack  swore  and  spate.  "South- 
ampton docks,"  he  said,  "is  the  finest  docks  in 
the  world.  New  York's  a  toy-shop  to  it.  I've 
been  round  the  world  and  touched  all  its  har- 
bors twice,  Mister  Longlegs,  and  you  just  be- 
lieve me :  this  very  same  Southampton's  got 
the  docks  that  makes  'em  all  look  green." 

Lingo  Dan  yawned  wearily.  "Well,  well, 
perhaps  you're  right.  I  am  quite  willing  to 
admit  that  I  am  no  expert  in  dock  measure- 
ments. But  this  much,  my  dear  man,  I  trust 
you  also  will  allow :  Southampton  is  not  the 
most  exciting  place  in  the  world  in  which  to 
spend  a  pleasant  evening." 

"Oh, — that!"  The  one-legged  man  looked 
at  the  other  two  with  utter  contempt.  "It's  no 
Paris,  nor  yet  no  Monte  Carlo,  if  that's  what 


58 


LINGO  DAN 


you  mean.  There's  just  two  things  to  South- 
ampton— there's  the  work,  and  there's  the 
booze." 

"Which,  after  all,"  smiled  Lingo  Dan,  "is 
the  wisest  distribution  of  pain  and  pleasure 
that,  in  my  philosophy,  the  world  has  yet  found. 
But  enough  of  Southampton.  Has  the  Donau 
passed  Hurst  Castle  yet?" 

"No ;  and  maybe  they'll  not  signal  her  there 
at  all.  There  may  be  fog.  There's  no  telling. 
If  we  stay  here  she  may  not  tie  up  till  six  in 
the  morning,  and  if  we  go  to  get  a  bit  of  sleep, 
the  luck  is,  she'll  sneak  up  to  the  dock  in  be- 
tween three  and  four,  and  them  that's  stayed 
out  here  all  night  will  get  the  unloading  of  her. 
But  I'm  for  bed,  I  am.  One  night  of  that  a 
week's  a  bellyful  for  me;  I  had  it  yesternight." 
And  therewith  the  dock-hand  stumped  toward 
the  town. 

Lingo  Dan  looked  after  him  with  a  smile 
flickering  about  his  mouth,  as  a  moth  flickers 
about  a  flame. 

"But  as  for  you  and  me,  Billy,"  he  said, 
presently,  "we  take  no  risks.  When  the  Donau 
comes  in,  she  finds  us  ready.  I  have  thought  it 
all  out,  Billy.  It  is,  like  all  other  things  in  the 
world,  a  speculation.  But  the  stakes  are  small. 
Merely,  in  fact,  a  ducking.  Moreover,  there  is 
the  delightful  element  of  surprise.  It  is  like  the 
dear  old  game  of  grab-bag  that  we  were  wont, 
as  innocent  little  children,  to  play  at  church 


LINGO  DAN 


59 


festivals.  Do  you  remember,  Billy,  do  you  re- 
member? Dear,  dead,  days!"  He  sighed,  and 
looked  out  over  the  shining,  rustling  water. 
Billy  said  no  word.  He  was  busy  whittling 
at  a  plank  with  a  clasp-knife. 
"Billy!" 

The  answer  was  a  grunt  full  of  annoyance  at 
being  disturbed. 

"Are  you  sure  you  quite  recall  our  little 
plan  ?  Your — h'm — preoccupation  in — I  doubt 
not — most  happy  mental  gymnastics  of  your 
own,  sometimes  leads  me  to  the  fear  that  you 
might  possibly  forget  such  minor  details  as 
these  immediate  schemes  of  ours.  Perhaps  I 
wrong  you  ?  Say  so,  Billy,  say  so !  No  ?  Well 
then,  to  repeat :  in  carrying  the  mail-bags  from 
ship  to  shore  I  manage  to  slip,  and  plunge,  with 
my  burden,  into  the  water.  As  I  do  so,  I  rip  the 
canvas  with  my  knife,  seize  as  many  packages 
of  letters  as  will  be  easily  carried  without  sus- 
picion, and  transfer  them  quickly  to  you,  who 
have,  meanwhile,  jumped  in  to  rescue  me.  You 
must  be  quick,  remember,  lest  someone  be  be- 
fore you  in  the  timely  aid  to  the  drowning. 
Don't  let  the  fact  that  I  can  swim  a  mile  to 
your  yard  keep  you  from  your  noble  effort, 
Billy,  and  remember  to  be  quick  about  hiding 
the  letters.  They'll  only  suspect  me,  you  know, 
if  the  rip  looks  queer." 

Billy  nodded  and  grunted  in  what  he  doubt- 
less meant  to  be  a  tone  of  acquiescence. 


6o 


LINGO  DAN 


"Just  think,  Billy,"  his  companion  went  on, 
"of  the  beautiful  possibilities  of  the  thing. 
There  may  be  mere,  commonplace  coin;  there 
may  be  cheques;  there  may  be  love  letters; 
there  may  be, — ah,  Billy,  who  can  say  what 
adventures  there  may  not  be  in  that  swift  in- 
stant that  we  take  the  liberty  of  intercepting 
the  Royal  Mail !"  He  began  to  whistle  "Mary- 
land, My  Maryland."  Then  he  continued, 
dreamily,  almost  whisperingly,  "Have  you  no- 
ticed, Billy,  that  at  home  there  is  ache  and  an- 
ger against  a  European  power?  Have  you 
read  the  newspapers  of  late?  Tragedy  sits 
waiting  for  our  country.  Our  country !  Billy, 
can  you  see,  over  there  past  Cowes,  and  past 
the  Needles,  and  out  over  the  gray  sea,  a  fine, 
free,  careless  country?" 

"Country  nothing,"  interrupted  Billy,  rising, 
"that's  the  Donan" 

"So  it  is,  Billy,  so  it  is." 

And  they  went  forward  to  meet  the  Royal 
Liner  Donau. 

About  noon  of  the  following  day  Lingo  Dan 
and  Billy  were  being  rowed  out  to  a  trim,  rak- 
ishly-curved  steam  yacht,  that  lay  at  anchor  in 
the  Solent. 

"If  there  is  one  thing,"  Lingo  Dan  was  ob- 
serving, "that  I  have  always  wanted  more  than 
another,  it  is  to  own  a  yacht.  It  seems  to  be 
the  supreme  realization  of  the  human  wish  to 


LINGO  DAN 


61 


have  one's  house  one's  castle.  And  now,  Billy, 
now,  my  dream  is  to  be  realized."  He  let  his 
hand  droop  into  the  water;  the  spray  flung  it- 
self slightly  over  both  himself  and  Billy.  "I 
beg  a  thousand  pardons,  Billy,"  he  declared, 
withdrawing  his  hand ;  "I  meant  not  to  spatter 
the  new  clothes.  How,  by  the  way,  how  do 
you  think  you  look  in  them  ?" 
"Rotten." 

"Oh,  no,  not  that,  surely  not  that.  A  trifle 
eccentric,  perhaps,  but  then — American  mil- 
lionaires are  all  accounted  eccentric  here.  It 
fits  most  admirably — I  mean  the  eccentricity, 
not  the  coat.  For  presently,  you  know,  Billy, 
you  will  have  to  be  that  wonderful  creature,  an 
American  millionaire.  Your  name  will  be  Wil- 
lie K.  Elkhorn.  The  great  Willie  K.  Elkhorn, 
who  owns  more  ice  than  any  man  in  the  world, 
not  excepting  the  Czar  of  Russia.  But  not 
until  I  give  the  word,  Billy;  not  until  then." 

They  reached  the  yacht  in  a  very  few  min- 
utes. After  a  word  or  two  and  a  glance  at  a 
letter  in  Lingo  Dan's  hand,  the  master  of  the 
yacht  showed  them  to  his  private  cabin. 

"Mighty  glad  to  meet  you,  Captain — Captain 
Winters — thank  you !  Sit  down,  and  let's  get 
the  business  over  quickly.  Fact  is,  I've  been 
waiting  for  you,  knowing  they'd  call  on  me 
for  the  Hawk  right  away  if  they  wanted  her 
at  all.  Let  me  see  the  Secretary's  letter  again. 
Yes,  that's  right ;  I  told  him  the  last  time  I  was 


62 


LINGO  DAN 


in  Washington  that  any  time  the  government 
wanted  a  yacht  that  could  sail  round  anything 
afloat,  they  could  have  the  Hawk" 

"At  your  price,  however?" 

"Of  course,  Captain  Winters;  of  course.  I'm 
a  good  citizen,  Captain  Winters,  but  I  can't 
very  well  offer  the  Hawk  as  a  sacrifice  on  the 
altar  of  patriotism.  Besides,  that  letter  from 
the  Secretary  of  the  Navy  authorizes  you  to 
pay  me  my  price,  doesn't  it?" 

"Yes ;  but  the  Secretary,  Mr.  Elkhorn,  when 
he  wrote  me  that  letter,  knew  that  I  wouldn't 
pay  a  price  I  thought  exorbitant." 

"Well,  nobody's  going  to  be  exorbitant ;  not 
Willie  K.  Elkhorn,  anyway.  Give  me  a  gov- 
ernment voucher,  or  order,  or  whatever  you 
call  it,  for  this" — he  scrawled  some  figures  on 
an  envelope,  and  handed  it  to  his  visitor,  "and 
I'll  get  out  of  the  old  boat  today.  I'm  due  in 
Paris  this  very  minute,  to  tell  you  the  truth." 

The  other  read  the  figures,  lifted  his  brows  a 
trifle,  looked  at  Elkhorn,  and  smiled. 

"Nothing  less?" 

"Not  a  cent." 

"Well,  it's  a  hard  bargain.  You  know  we 
need  the  boat;  and  you  know  we  need  it  now. 

However  "    He  sat  down  to  the  table  and 

made  out  a  promise  to  pay. 

Elkhorn  looked  over  his  shoulder  as  he 
wrote.  "Do  you  mind  letting  me  see  that  let- 
ter, and  those  instructions,  again.    It's  a  large 


LINGO  DAN 


63 


amount ;  it's  best  to  be  quite  certain — you'll  not 
take  it  in  offense."  He  ran  his  eyes  over  the 
documents  that  the  other  handed  him.  "Seems 
explicit  enough,  doesn't  it.  'Purchase  at  once 
the  Hawk,  W.  K.  Elkhorn's  yacht,  now  in  the 
Solent.  He  has  expressed  his  willingness  to  sell 
when  called  upon.  Take  full  charge  of  her 
yourself,  retaining,  if  possible,  the  crew  now 
on  board,  so  as  to  lose  no  time,  and  report  at 
the  first  possible  moment  at  Fortress  Monroe/ 
H'm,  h'm,  h'm.  'Your  own  signature,  on  en- 
closed blank,  will  be  our  guarantee  to  Mr.  Elk- 
horn.  If  necessary,  show  him  this  letter.'  H'm, 
h'm,  h'm.  Yes,  that's  the  Secretary's  signature 
all  right.  And  you're  Captain  Cornelius  Win- 
ters, and  I'm  W.  K.  Elkhorn,  and  here's  the 
Hazvk;  and  so  I  guess  we'll  have  all  settled  in 
about  thirty  seconds.  I  think  there'll  be  no 
difficulty  about  keeping  the  crew  I  have  on 
board.  They're  all  men  from  the  New  Eng- 
land coast,  and  they're  just  aching  for  a  fight. 
I'll  call  my  sailing-master." 

He  put  his  hand  to  a  button  beside  him.  A 
stout  man  in  blue  came  to  the  door. 

"Smalley,"  said  Elkhorn,  "this  is  Captain 
Cornelius  Winters,  of  the  U.  S.  Navy,  from 
this  time  on  in  complete  command  of  this 
yacht.  You  will  take  all  your  orders  from 
him." 

The  sailing-master  smiled  hugely.  "Is  it 
trouble  ?"  he  asked. 


64 


LINGO  DAN 


'Trouble?''  echoed  Elkhorn;  "well,  you  just 
bet  there's  trouble.  And  it  can't  be  long  be- 
fore it  comes  to  a  head.  You're  still  in  neutral 
waters,  Winters,  but  you  can't  get  out  of  'em 
too  soon.  If  you've  any  stores  to  get,  or  ar- 
mament, you'd  better  hurry.  As  for  me,  I'm 
off."  He  put  on  his  hat.  and  made  for  the 
doorway.  Just  as  he  reached  it,  he  turned  about 
and  said :  "I  leave  the  Haivk  just  as  she  is,  fit- 
tings, furnishings,  and  all.  You  get  her  inside 
and  outside.  Do  as  you  damn  please  with  her. 
Fight  the  enemy,  run  her  on  a  reef,  lose  her, — 
I  don't  care.  Bye-bye,  Smalley !  Good  fighting 
to  you,  \Yinters !" 

And  he  was  gone.  The  same  boat  that  had 
brought  Lingo  Dan  and  Billy  to  the  Hazvk  took 
W.  K.  Elkhorn  back  to  Southampton. 

When  the  millionaire  had  left  the  cabin  the 
new  owner  sat  staring  at  the  wall.  "I  own  a 
yacht."  he  murmured;  "I  own  a  yacht.  Dream 
of  my  youth,  regret  of  my  early  manhood.  The 
sudden  realization  almost  stuns  me.  Is  it  real, 
I  wonder,  is  it  real?"  Suddenly  he  became 
aware  of  Smalley  still  standing  in  the  door- 
way. "Mr.  Smalley,"  he  said,  turning  to  face 
that  person,  "with  your  navigation  of  the 
Han'k  I  will  not  interfere  at  all,  do  you  under- 
stand. I  will  merely  give  you  such  orders  as 
are  necessary — the  fewer  the  better.  My  own 
orders  are  sealed — to  a  certain  extent.  But 
before  everything,  have  the  Haivk's  white  an4 


LINGO  DAN 


65 


blue  changed  to  gray ;  and  have  her  put  in  con- 
dition to  take  the  rapid-fire  guns  that  she's  to 
carry.  At  once,  Mr.  Smalley,  at  once.  That's 
all." 

As  the  blue  figure  disappeared  up  the  com- 
panionway,  Lingo  Dan  suppressed  a  burst  of 
chuckling.  "Too  bad,"  he  said  to  himself,  "too 
bad!  Poor  Billy  freezing  up  on  deck  all  this 
time.  Billy,  alias  Willie  K.  Elkhorn — if  nec- 
essary. And  I — oh  marvelous  jugglery  of 
chance! — I,  Lingo  Dan,  performing  the  rites 
of  Captain  Cornelius  Winters,  U.  S.  N. !"  He 
got  up  and  began  to  probe  the  furnishings  of 
the  cabin.  As  one  of  the  little  knobs  turned  at 
his  touch,  he  gave  an  exclamation.  "A  side- 
board," he  said,  "a  most  delightful  sideboard! 
Champagne,  iced!"  He  smacked  his  lips,  and 
put  a  bottle  and  two  glasses  on  the  table. 

Then  he  went  to  call  Billy. 

Sfj  5{C  ?Ji  s(c  sfc  5jc  5fl 

"Can  you  make  her  out,  Smalley?"  Lingo 
Dan  was  trying  in  vain  to  pierce  with  his  own 
unaided  eyes  the  miles  of  gray  sea-haze  that 
lay  between  the  Hazvk  and  the  vessel  that  had 
just  been  sighted. 

"Not  altogether,  sir;  but,  if  I'm  not  much 
mistaken,  it's  a  boat  of  our  own  sort.  There's 
a  nasty  mist  on  the  water."  Lie  kept  the  glass 
to  his  eye  in  silence  for  some  little  time.  "I 
think  I  see  her  now.  It's — yes,  by  ginger,  it  is  ! 
I  know  her ;  we  were  in  the  same  parade  with 


66 


LINGO  DAN 


her  a  few  years  ago.  It's  the  Brandenburg/' 
"The  Brandenburg?"  Lingo  Dan  whistled. 
A  smile  crept  along  his  lips.  "Head  for  her, 
Smalley,"  he  said.  Then  he  went  over  to  where 
Billy  was  sitting,  gazing  disconsolately  at  the 
froth  and  swirl  that  danced  above  the  screws. 

"Billy,  we  have  sighted  the  Brandenburg. 
Think  of  it,  Billy!  The  Brandenburg!  The 
imperial  Brandenburg!  Ah,  Billy,  see  how  the 
dictates  of  an  ever  watchful  Providence  ordain 
that  the  odds  be  even.  In  our  time,  Billy,  have 
we  not  launched  our  mightiest  curses  upon 
those  modern  engines  of  thought  that  men  call 
newspapers  ?  Ah,  countless  times.  Well,  here, 
at  last,  comes  the  reversal ;  today,  oh  William, 
we  have  cause  to  offer  hearty  thanks  to  the  vig- 
ilance of  newspapers,  of  correspondents.  Inci- 
dentally, Billy,  I  take  some  small  share  of 
praise  to  myself ;  had  I  not  been  so  faithful  to 
perusal  of  the  world's  doings,  I  would  not  have 
known,  weeks  ago,  when  we  left  Southampton, 
that  the  Brandenburg  was  likely  to  be  in  these 
waters.  And  now,  Billy,  there  she  comes ;  see, 
Billy,  how  majestically  she  skims  along!  Ma- 
jestically, I  say,  majestically.  In  more  ways 
than  one,  since  she  has  the  Emperor  aboard." 
He  put  his  hand  on  Billy's  shoulder  so  that  the 
other  winced  away  from  the  grip  and  faced 
him.  "Presently,  Billy,  you  will  have  to  try  to 
seem  more  amiable  than  this.  Your  great  mo- 
ment is  approaching;  you  will  have  to  be  the 


LINGO  DAN 


67 


American  millionaire,  Billy,  to  the  very  flourish 
in  the  dot  upon  the  I.  An  execrable  coat,  that 
of  yours ;  a  most  infelicitous  garment !  But — 
on  the  other  hand,  most  splendidly  in  keeping 
with  the  general  eccentricity  upon  which  the 
great  goddess,  Nature,  foreseeing  your  enmil- 
lioned  destiny,  has  fashioned  you."  He  turned 
to  leave ;  then  he  flung  a  warning  back  over  his 
shoulder,  in  a  tone  that  had  no  echo  of  flip- 
pancy in  it:  "Keep  sober,  Billy,  as  you  value 
our  lives !" 

He  walked  back  toward  Smalley's  post  on 
the  bridge.  His  face,  as  he  strode  over  the 
Hazvk's  deck,  glowed  with  the  delight  he  took 
in  contemplation  of  his  yacht's  grim  war-vis- 
age. This  was  a  very  different  Hawk  to  the 
one  that  had  left  Southampton  a  few  weeks 
ago.  Grim  in  her  slate  apparel,  grim  with  her 
Nordenfeldts  and  Gatlings,  grim  with  the  mys- 
tery of  her  purpose — it  was  hard  for  Smalley 
and  the  crew  to  remember  that  this  was  the 
same  Hazvk  that  Willie  K.  Elkhorn  had  for 
years  been  wont  to  use  in  his  almost  aimless 
junketings  in  and  out  of  all  the  pleasure-tap- 
ping ports  of  both  hemispheres.  Yet  it  could 
not  be  said  that  they  frowned  at  the  change; 
rather,  they  welcomed  it.  They  wondered, 
perhaps,  at  the  order  that  brought  the  Stars 
and  Stripes  down,  and  sent  no  bunting  of  any 
sort  up  in  its  place.  But,  after  all,  if  that  was 
what  Captain  Winters  wished,  their  part  was 


68 


LINGO  DAN 


merely  to  obey.  So  they  worked,  humming 
and  whistling,  waiting  eagerly  for  any  decis- 
ive activity. 

"You  are  sure  it's  the  Brandenburg?" 

Smalley  turned  at  the  question.  "I'll  stake 
my  buttons  on  it,"  he  said. 

"Very  well.  Go  as  close  as  you  can  without 
making  them  nervous ;  have  all  our  men  keep 
below,  and  run  up  signals  of  distress." 

Presently  a  small  boat  was  sent  down  the 
side  of  the  Brandenburg,  and  came  toward  the 
Hazvk. 

Captain  Winters  was  ready  for  the  newcom- 
ers. Excessive  courtesy  met  them  above  decks ; 
below  decks  the  spluttering,  splendidly-uni- 
formed strangers  found  themselves  suddenly 
surrounded,  asked  for  their  weapons,  pinioned. 
There  was  much  thunderous,  rumbling  profan- 
ity. 

Captain  Winters  spoke  in  a  tongue  that  the 
crew  of  the  Hazvk  knew  little  about.  He  ad- 
dressed the  newcomers. 

"Fluchen,"  he  declared,  "ist  unnuets."  Then 
a  terrific  babble  came  at  him  from  all  the  pris- 
oners at  once.  But  he  waved  them  away  into 
silence.  "I  merely  wished  to  convey  to  you," 
he  went  on,  "the  salient  fact  that  I  understand 
everything  you  say.  Just  as  most  of  you  now 
understand  what  I  say.  Now  listen.  You  are 
in  my  power  at  this  moment.    I  can  keep  you 


LINGO  DAN 


69 


prisoned  here  and  set  steam  for  the  Cannibal 
Island  with  yon  if  I  choose.  Your  people  on 
the  Brandenburg  will  never  know  until  it  is 
too  late;  the  mist  grows  thicker  between  us 
every  instant.  If  you  want  your  lives,  this  is 
what  you  must  do.  You  must  send  your  boat 
back  to  the  Brandenburg  with  such  a  message 
as  will  ensure  His  Majesty's  visit  to  this  room 
that  now  has  the  great  honor  of  harboring  you. 
I  do  not  care  how  the  message  reads ;  you  may 
tell  of  having  found  a  derelict,  or  of  a  dying 
stranger  calling  on  a  last  sight  of  his  Emperor, 
— I  care  not  at  all.  Only  this  much,  remember : 
treachery  will  be  a  painful  experiment.  The 
moment  I  scent  tricks  I  shall  blow  His  Maj- 
esty and  his  yacht  to  a  throne  that  is  vastly 
older  than  the  divine  right  of  kings.  Do  you 
understand  me?" 

The  prisoners,  with  their  wrists  chafing 
against  handcuffs,  nodded. 

"Remember,  I  must  have  your  word,  each 
one  of  you.  It  is  either  that,  or, — a  little  trip 
for  you,  gentlemen,  into  as  much  of  the  Un- 
known as  I  may  choose  for  you."  The  face 
of  Captain  Winters  relaxed  into  a  most  kindly, 
smiling  expression.  "If  it  will  relieve  your 
fears  at  all,  gentlemen,  let  me  assure  you  that 
the  thing  is  but  a  whim,  a  jest.  The  fact  is, 
the  owner  of  this  yacht,  Mr.  W.  K.  Elkhorn, 
of  the  United  States,  has  made  up  his  mind  to 
have  your  imperial  master  to  dinner.  He  knows 


LIXGO  DAN 


the  impossibility  of  the  thing  by  ordinary 
methods.  Hence  these  desperate  tricks  of  mine. 
Do  you  not  see?  I.  gentlemen,  I  myself,  am 
as  much  amused  as  I  begin  to  see  you  are.  In 
confidence,,  to  you.  I  admit  the  apparent  shame- 
lessness  of  such  social  ambition;  but,  at  the 
same  time,  gentlemen,  I  find  the  thing  too  hu- 
morous not  to  follow  it  with  zest.  And  so,  I 
beg,  do  you  do  also.  A  harmless,  curious, 
whim — that  is  all.  Have  I  your  words,  upon 
your  honor?" 

By  this  time  the  strangers  were  between 
frowning  and  laughing.  The  magnitude  of 
this  folly  was  throwing  them  off  their  balance. 
''Diesc  I'errueckten  Amerxkanerr  was  the  only 
voice  that  one  of  them  found.  Their  minds 
hurried  over  the  possibilities,  the  chances  for 
their  own  escape,  the  desperate  extremities  of 
folly  in  the  man  before  them,  the  hazard  of  the 
Emperor's  tragic  wrath,  the  chances  of  his  ul- 
timate safety  in  this  insane  ship.  But  there 
seemed  no  way  out  of  compliance  with  Captain 
Winters'  commands.    So  they  consented. 

The  rowboat  left  the  Hazi'k,  and  was  swal- 
lowed up  in  the  mist.  Captain  Winters  was 
talking  rapidly  and  earnestly  with  Smalley. 
After  the  sound  of  the  oars  was  dead  in  the 
gray  veil,  there  was  nothing  alive  but  the  voice 
of  the  Hazck  chafing  in  the  swell.  It  seemed, 
almost,  as  if  the  boat's  crew  was  gone  forever, 
as  if  behind  that  veil  of  mist  there  was  nothing, 


LINGO  DAN 


7* 


no  Emperor,  no  Brandenburg.  But  Captain 
Winters  smiled.  He  had  seen  the  message  that 
had  been  sent  from  the  prisoned  officers ;  he  had 
chuckled  at  every  word  of  it ;  he  had  even  pass- 
ed a  jest  with  the  writer  of  it. 

"Give  them  a  sign  of  life,  Smalley." 

The  Hawk's  fog  whistle  called  its  way  into 
the  mist.  For  answer,  there  came  the  plash  of 
oars,  and  the  rowboat  creeping,  a  shapeless 
shadow  in  black,  out  of  the  gray. 

A  young  man,  keen  eyed,  of  military  bear- 
ing, strode  quickly  up  the  ladder  to  the  deck  of 
the  Hazvk.  It  was  the  first  time  in  his  life  that 
he  had  come  so  far  without  receiving  a  salute. 
He  frowned,  and  his  eyes  gleamed. 

The  moment  he  touched  deck  there  was  a 
clang  behind  him,  and  he  heard  a  voice,  in 
English,  giving  the  order : 

"Full  speed  ahead,  Smalley;  you  know 
where  to." 

Whereupon  the  Hawk  turned  her  nose  away 
from  where  the  Brandenburg  had  last  been  seen 
and  went  cutting  and  slashing  through  the 
North  Sea  at  the  rate  of  twenty-two  knots  an 
hour. 

"No,  Smalley,  never  mind  the  fog,"  went  on 
the  voice;  "we've  got  an  Emperor  aboard; 
Would  any  fog  assail  the  anointed  of  the 
Lord?  Full  speed  ahead.  We  have  an  Em- 
peror aboard !" 


72 


LINGO  DAN 


The  Emperor  sprang  back  to  the  taffrail,  his 
lips  opened  for  a  mighty  shout,  and  then  sud- 
denly his  sacred  arms  felt  the  restraining  might 
of  stronger  arms,  and  a  hand  went  to  his 
mouth.  Before  his  breath  and  his  passionate 
struggling  left  him  the  Hazvk  was  miles  away 
from  its  late  resting-place.  "I  regret,"  said 
Captain  Winters,  "the  necessity  for  this  vio- 
lence against  Your  Majesty's  person,  but — may 
I  explain?"  He  waved  his  hand  toward  the 
companion  way  of  the  dining-saloon. 

The  Emperor  looked  at  the  man  before  him, 
at  the  impassive  crew  of  aliens  about  him;  his 
hands  clenched  convulsively.  He  was  white  in 
his  rage.    "My  officers?"  he  asked  at  last. 

"Are  safe/'  said  Captain  Winters.  "Will 
you  lead  the  way?" 

Involuntarily  the  Emperor's  eyes  widened  a 
little  as  he  stepped  into  the  dining-room.  A 
table  was  set  for  three.  There  was  such  silver 
as  the  Brandenburg  could  not  equal,  such  splen- 
dor of  decoration  and  furnishing  as  the  imperial 
yacht  had  never  dreamed  of. 

"Your  Majesty,  I  hope,  has  not  yet  dined?" 

"Enough,  enough  !  What  is  this  insult  ?  Oh ! 
— there  shall  be  blood  for  this;  blood,  I  tell 
you ;  Europe  shall  run  with  blood." 

"Europe?"  Captain  Winters  smiled  a  lit- 
tle. "How  unfair!  Why  Europe?  Poor  Eu- 
rope !  It  must  be  sad  to  be  a  European.  Come, 
come,  Your  Majesty  forgets — Your  Majesty! 


LTNGO  DAN 


73 


Besides,  I  have  only  to  touch  a  button,  here, 
in  the  wainscot,  and  our  dinner  can  be  made  a 
bread  and  water  solitude.  Let  me  explain.  The 
yacht  that  now  shelters  you  is  the  property  of 
Willie  K.  Elkhorn,  who  does  himself  the  honor 
to  ask  you  to  dinner.  He  takes  unusual  means 
to  assure  your  presence;  that  is  all." 

"A  fool!    A  lunatic!    How  does  he  dare?" 

"He  is  an  American." 

The  Emperor  stared. 

"Has  it  ever  occurred  to  Your  Majesty  that, 
far  over  seas,  there  is  a  nation  that  has,  h'm, 
to  use  an  expresion  of  Mr.  Elkhorn's,  emper- 
ors to  burn.  Do  you  know  that  there  is  a  coun- 
try yonder  where  emperors  are  so  thick  that 
one  passes  them  daily  on  the  street.  They 
command  more  millions  than  you ;  they  have 
greater  luxuries;  they  have  more  than  your 
command  over  pleasure,  and  none  of  your  dan- 
gers, none  of  your  responsibilities.  They  are 
not  shackled.  They  can  outbid  you  in  the  mar- 
kets of  the  world.  You  order  the  finest  palace 
car  in  the  world ;  they  can  order  ten  better  ones. 
You  order  the  invasion  of  a  continent ;  they  can 
buy  that  continent's  safety  before  your  order 
is  cold.  And  yet, — and  yet  you  talk  of  the  di- 
vine right  of  kings !  Your  Majesty,  there  is 
only  one  country  that  has  divine  rights,  and 
that  is  the  country  where  all  are  kings!" 

The  Emperor  stirred  nervously. 


74 


LINGO  DAN 


"I  am  sorry  I  torture  Your  Majesty  with 
my  diffuseness.  But  it  is  only  right  that  I  seek 
to  show  justification  for  our  actions.  Here  is 
the  case:  two  emperors  sailing  the  same  sea; 
strangers,  yet  both  emperors.  Old,  foolish  su- 
perstitions of  etiquette  forbid  these  two  great 
equals  becoming  acquainted  as  man  to  man.  So 
one  of  these  two  emperors  spurns  the  stale  con- 
ventions of  propriety,  and  makes  a  bold  bid  for 
fellowship.  He  invites  you  to  dinner.  He  is 
an  American  emperor ;  you  are  a  European  em- 
peror. Call  it  an  adventure,  a  folly, — call  it 
what  you  please;  but  it  is  only  the  expression 
of  W.  K.  Elkhorn's  passionate  desire  to  have 
your  sacred  legs  under  his  democratic  mahog- 
any.   Will  Your  Majesty  be  pleased  to  dine?" 

The  Emperor  was  still  frowning. 

"Are  you  the  man  ?"  he  asked,  abruptly. 

"I?  Your  Majesty  is  pleased  to  flatter  me. 
I?  No,  no;  not  I.  I  am  no  emperor.  My 
very  loquacity  should  show  you  that.  It  is  the 
province  of  emperors  to  be  brief ;  I — I  am  the 
opposite.  No ;  I  am  merely  the  humble  repre- 
sentative, the  companion,  the  spokesman." 

"Are  you  secretary  or  valet?" 

A  flush  came  over  Lingo  Dan's  face.  Then 
he  remembered  his  Captain  Winters'  pose,  and 
curbed  himself. 

"Something  of  each,  perhaps.  But — with 
more  power  than  either.  In  fact,  as  concerns 
the  present,  Your  Majesty  will  be  good  enough 


LINGO  DAN 


75 


to  remember  that  I  am  the — the  representative 
of  the  host.  Let  me  be  plain;  you  may  hunger, 
or  you  may  dine.  Your  life,  on  this  yacht,  is 
not  worth  a  kreutzer.  Will  you  be  pleased  to 
dine?" 

"I  will  have  blood  for  it." 

"Will  Your  Majesty  be  pleased  to  dine?" 

"Such  insolence!   And  to  a  prince!" 

Lingo  Dan  put  out  his  right  arm,  to  where 
a  disk  of  white  showed  in  the  rosewood  wains- 
cot. 

"If  I  touch  this  button,"  he  said,  "and  give 
the  order,  that  sacred  person  of  yours  may  be 
compelled  to  suffer  in  solitude  and  abstinence 
tonight.  It  seems  you  will  not  understand.  We 
invite  you  in  good  faith,  in  some  attempt  at 
cheery  fellowship ;  but — if  you  choose  to  cut  up 
rough,  we,  too,  can  take  that  cue.  Do  you  not 
realize  that  you  are  powerless?" 

"Fool!  Do  you  forget  the  telegraph, 
the—?" 

"I  forget  nothing.  True,  there  is  the  tele- 
graph. What  you  mean  is  that  in  a  few  hours 
or  so  your  other  officers  on  the  Brandenburg 
will  grow  anxious,  then  frantic.  They  will  run 
into  the  nearest  port  and  wire  their  wonderful 
news  broadcast,  to  all  the  secret  agents  of  your 
government.  The  ports  of  Europe  will  be  in 
wait  for  this  yacht;  there  will  be  a  sword  in 
the  hand  of  every  harbor-master  this  side  of 
Sandy  Hook.    But  I  also  remember  this :  the 


76 


LINGO  DAN 


same  reason  that  will  keep  your  government 
from  publishing  your  absence  to  the  world 
openly  will  prevent  your  own  actions  along  that 
line.  Consider  the  ridiculous  possibilities  of 
the  thing!  If  I  judge  Your  Majesty  aright, 
publicity  of  this  episode  would  torture  you  far 
more  than  the  thing  itself.  Think  of  all  the 
comic  papers  in  Europe  picturing  your  invol- 
untary imprisonment  on  the  yacht  of  an  Ameri- 
can millionaire  !  Think  of  the  chorus  of  laugh- 
ter in  the  world !  Above  all,  think  of  the  dan- 
ger in  your  own  government.  Is  your  position 
so  secure  that  you  can  afford  the  rumor  of  your 
sudden  incapacity  ?  I  think  not.  If  you  refuse 
the  suggestions  that  we  wish  to  put  to  you — 
quite  in  the  way  of  dinner  conversation,  you 
will  understand — we  have  it  in  our  power  to 
take  you  over  seas  for  an  absence  of,  oh,  well, 
at  least  a  month.  Are  your  affairs  at  home  so 
safe  they  can  suffer  your  evanishment  so 
long?" 

No  answer  came  from  the  sullen  Emperor. 
"Your  Majesty,  I  take  it,  will  now  be  pleased 
to  dine?" 

"I  will  have  blood,"  was  still  the  answer. 

"Not  blood,  but  Burgundy,  Your  Majesty, 
we  offer  you.  A  finer  wine,  I  wager,  than  the 
imperal  cellars  hold.  Your  Majesty !"  The  last 
two  words  rang  out  with  sudden  sharpness. 

"I  hear  you." 


LINGO  DAN 


77 


"Your  Majesty,  the  dinner  grows  cold.  An 
American  emperor  waits  for  no  man.  Will  you 
be  pleased  to  dine,  or  " 

Before  the  sentence  came  to  end  a  shock  and 
a  following  shiver  came  to  the  boat.  In  the  din- 
ing-room the  flowers  spilled  their  petals  over 
the  white  cloth,  and  the  glasses  clanged  together 
with  a  bell-like  note.  Lingo  Dan's  finger  cov- 
ered the  white  disk  in  the  wall  for  a  second. 

"Call  Smalley,"  he  said. 

They  waited  in  silence  until  the  sailing-mas- 
ter came. 

"Anything  wrong,  Smalley?" 

The  man's  face  had  a  sort  of  horror  in  it. 
"We  cut  down  a  fishing-smack,"  he  said. 

"Any  damage?" 

"We  could  see  nothing,  sir:  I  fear  they're  all 
gone  down.    I've  slowed  her  up  and  " 

"Slowed !  I  take  it  we're  not  damaged  at 
all!  Full  speed  ahead,  Smalley,  full  speed 
ahead." 

"But  there  might  be  some  of  them  floating 
on  wreckage,  so  I  thought  " 

"Sorry,  Smalley,  but  you  must  not  think  to- 
night. Full  speed  ahead!  We  are  on  business 
of  the — Emperor's." 

After  vSmalley  had  gone  and  the  regular  beat 
of  the  screws  could  be  heard  again,  Lingo  Dan 
turned  for  a  glance  at  his  guest.  The  Emper- 
or's face  was  white,  his  eyes  had  the  look  of  a 
man  who  is  hunted  to  a  corner.    The  sudden 


73 


LINGO  DAN 


realization  of  the  ruthlessness  of  his  captor  had 
come  to  him  out  of  those  words  with  Smalley. 

"Yes,  I  will  dine,"  he  said,  with  weariness  in 
his  voice. 

"Ah,  you  will  see,  Your  Majesty,  how  high- 
ly we  value  the  honor." 

Now  that  his  point  was  won,  there  was  noth- 
ing more  suave,  more  gentle,  more  apparently 
obsequious  than  the  manner  of  Lingo  Dan  to 
his  guest.  "You  must  forget  everything,  save 
that  we  are  dining  in  good  fellowship.  Indeed, 
indeed !  you  must  think  only  that  you  are  be- 
stowing upon  us  a  great  favor."  He  touched 
the  electric  bell  again.  "And  now  to  introduce 
to  Your  Majesty  the  owner  of  the  boat,  and  for 
the  time,  your  host." 

There  came  into  the  room  the  squat,  ungain- 
ly figure  of  Billy.  His  hair  was  short  as  the 
bristles  on  a  boar,  and  it  stood  up  almost  as 
grimly.  His  face  was  uncannily  clean;  the 
soap  had  made  the  fiery  complexion  glow  with 
an  added  lustre.  He  slouched  in,  with  one 
shoulder  higher  than  the  other;  the  head  held 
low,  with  the  forehead  poised  like  the  horns  of 
an  angry  bull.  When  Lingo  Dan's  smooth 
sentence  of  introduction  came,  this  version  of 
Willie  K.  Elkhorn,  American  millonaire,  mere- 
ly jerked  his  head  the  faintest  bit,  flashed  his 
eyes  for  a  second  or  so  over  the  Emperor's  re- 
splendent uniform,  and  dropped  into  the  chair 
nearest  him. 


LINGO  DAN 


79 


And  then  began  a  wonderful  dinner.  There 
have  been  curious  companions  at  dinner  before 
in  the  world,  but  surely  there  have  been  few  oc- 
casions like  this  one.  Here  sat  the  Emperor 
of  one  of  the  great  Powers,  treating  as  an  equal 
two  nameless  vagabonds,  two  conscienceless 
adventurers,  the  one  a  mere  brutish  ruffian,  the 
other  an  ingenious  trifler  with  tragedies,  a  cun- 
ning artificer  of  plans  to  no  good  purpose,  a 
man  who  might  have  been  anything,  and  had 
chosen  to  be  nothing.  And  yet  the  Emperor 
was  bound,  and  the  vagabonds  were  free.  A 
curious  dinner,  surely. 

They  were  come  to  the  entree  before  any- 
thing more  than  perfunctory  phrases  passed. 
Then  Lingo  Dan  spoke : 

"Mr.  Elkhorn,  Your  Majesty,  it  may  aston- 
ish you  to  learn,  is  a  gentleman  whose  fame  is 
a  household  word  with  sixty  million  people. 
More  people  stand  in  awe  of  him  than  of  any 
private  person  in  the  world.  And  why?  Be- 
cause, Your  Majesty,  he  controls  a  human 
comfort — he  is  King  of  Ice.  Let  Mr.  Elkhorn 
say  the  word,  and  there  will  be  no  ice  from  one 
end  of  your  dominion  to  the  other.  What 
would  you  say  to  that,  Your  Majesty,  when 
fevers  came,  or  tepid  bottles  of  the  wine  you 
choose  to  call  mere  Schaumwein,  or  " 

The  Emperor  lifted  his  brows  and  almost 
smiled. 


8o 


LINGO  DAN 


"It  is  the  age  of  the  material,"  he  admitted. 

"You  are  right,  Your  Majesty;  it  sometimes 
seems  so.  And  yet,  I  confess,  in  your  case 
your  constant  war  against  the  material  has 
made  us  admire  you.  Mr.  Elkhorn,  Your  Maj- 
esty, is  quite  a  devotee  of  art.  The  famous 
Meissonier  that  kings  have  bid  for  hangs  in 
his  palace  on  the  Sound,  and  the  finest  thing 
that  Rodin  ever  did  awaits  you  in  his  hallway. 
Like  all  men  of  great  mental  force,  he  seeks 
relaxation  from  the  cares  of  business  in  devo- 
tion to  art.  And  long  ago  he  came  to  consider 
you  one  of  the  greatest  artists  in  the  world. 
Your  poetry,  your  painting,  your  plays,  your 
speeches,  your  splendid  taste  for  pageantry — all 
these  have  held  him  your  admirer  for  many 
years.  And  now,  you  see,  being  so  near,  and 
yet;  through  the  barrier  of  convention,  so  hope- 
lessly far,  he  simply  could  not,  could  not  resist 
an  effort  to  come  face  to  face  with  you,  to  voice 
to  you  his  earnest  worship  of  your  talents  and 
your  greatness, — your  greatness  as  an  artist 
rather  than  as  emperor." 

The  adroitness  of  the  flattery  pierced  the  ar- 
mor of  the  Emperor's  scorn.  What  defiance 
of  his  power  as  emperor  had  not  been  able  to 
achieve  this  subtle  fawning  before  him  as  a 
dilettante  succeeded  in.  He  became,  in  a  trice, 
the  man ;  the  emperor  was  gone. 

"I  drink,"  he  said,  with  a  lift  of  his  glass, 
"to  Mr.  Elkhorn." 


LINGO  DAN 


81 


On  solemn  smiles  the  three  glasses  were 
emptied. 

"It  is  something  I  shall  always  remember," 
said  the  pseudo  Captain  Winters,  "this  of  Your 
Majesty  and  the  great  Mr.  Elkhorn  touching 
glasses.  It  may,  who  knows,  mean  more  than 
the  mere  fellowship  of  man  to  man, — it  may 
foreshadow  the  close  comradeship  of  nations." 

The  Emperor  made  no  direct  reply.  His 
eyes  were  wandering  about  the  splendor  of  the 
cabin.  "A  beautiful  room,"  he  said,  "a  beau- 
tiful boat.    Has  America  many  such  ?" 

"Scores  upon  scores.  If  Mr.  Elkhorn  cared 
to  boast,  he  could  tell  you  of  this  vessel's  speed, 
of  her  guns  " 

"Her  guns?" 

"Why,  yes,  her  guns.  You  see,  Your  Maj- 
esty, America  expects  every  millionaire  to  do 
his  duty.  Mr.  Elkhorn  is  doing  his ;  he  is 
turning  his  yacht  over  to  the  American  gov- 
ernment for — anything  that  may  turn  up.  In- 
deed, she  is  at  this  moment  bound  for  our  coast, 
and  " 

"But  not  before  touching  somewhere?" 

"Oh,  no,  Your  Majesty,  not  before.  We 
merely  wished  the  delight  of  a  dinner  with  the 
greatest  artist  of  the  time — "  he  bowed  toward 
the  Emperor — "and  then,  we  are  at  Your  Maj- 
esty's commands." 

"It  is  a  strange  experience,"  mused  the  Em- 
peror aloud.    His  face  now  wore  a  smile,  now 


32 


LINGO  DAN 


a  puzzled  look.  Presently,  as  the  wine  stirred 
him,  the  frowns  and  furrows  left  his  face,  and 
the  smile  seemed  to  feel  more  at  home  about 
his  lips.  Surely  this  was  the  most  curious  flat- 
tery to  which  he  had  yet  been  subjected,  to  be 
kidnapped  that  he  might  grace  a  table  as  diner ! 
An  odd  phase  of  fame,  but  yet  fame. 

It  was  midnight,  and  the  coffee  was  low  in 
the  cups,  when  Lingo  Dan  asked,  obsequiously, 

"The  Hook  of  Holland,  at  dawn,  Your 
Majesty,  will  that  be  convenient  for  you?" 

The  Emperor  nodded  briefly. 

"And  before  you  leave  us,  Your  Majesty, 
there  is  another  favor  we  would  ask.  A  little 
thing,  and  yet — .  Between  ourselves  and 
Spain  there  is  some  chance  of  war.  If  war 
there  be,  the  far  East  would  see  some  of  it. 
The  harbor  of  Manila,  for  instance.  Your 
Majesty  has  warships  in  that  harbor.  Were 
they  to  join  with  Spain,  it  would  make  heavy 
odds  against  our  side.  Will  you  cement  the 
many  pleasant  things  you  have  said  about  our 
land  by  vowing  to  stay  neutral  ?" 

"Spain  is  my  friend."  The  Emperor's  frown 
returned  to  his  face. 

"Yet  you  have  dined  with  us." 

"I  did  not  ask  to." 

"True.  We  are  the  beggars ;  we  have  beg- 
ged your  presence,  as  we  beg  your  promise  of 
neutrality." 


LINGO  DAN 


83 


"Why  should  I  promise — to  a  man  who  is 
no  ambassador,  nothing  but  a  private  indi- 
vidual ?" 

"Very  well.  Your  Majesty  shall  see  Amer- 
ica. It  is  a  pleasant  place, — but  it  is  a  week 
away." 

The  Emperor  glared  across  the  table.  "A 
trap,"  he  mutered,  "a  trap." 

"You  have  only  to  sign  a  paper,  Your 
Majesty,  promising  Hands  Off.  Your  word — 
the  word  of  an  Emperor — shall  suffice.  If  not, 
— ten  days  at  sea  with  an  Emperor,  that  is 
what  it  means  to  Mr.  Elkhorn  and  myself;  it 
would,  looked  at  from  my  selfish  side,  be  a 
boon  from  you  if  you  refused  to  sign.  Still, 
— if  you  care  to  return  to  the  Brandenburg — " 

"You  threaten  me?" 

The  pseudo  captain  passed  the  wine.  "No; 
I  implore.  See,  I  do  not  ask  you  to  take  arms 
with  us;  I  only  ask  your  neutrality." 

They  sat  in  silence  for  a  few  moments.  The 
eyes  of  Billy  glistened  sleepily.  Now  and 
again  they  closed.  He  came  to  with  sudden 
jerks,  not  unconnected  with  the  fact  that  Lingo 
Dan  had  long  and  active  legs.  The  fume  of 
cigar  smoke  and  fruit  and  hot  coffee  was  thick 
in  the  room.  As  the  moments  passed,  Lingo 
Dan  took  out  a  sheet  of  paper  from  a  pocket 
book,  penciled  on  it  hurriedly,  erased  a  little, 
and  then  folded  the  paper,  waiting  for  the  Em- 
peror. 


84 


LINGO  DAN 


At  last  the  guest  spoke.    "I  agree,"  he  said. 

"I  knew  you  would,"  said  Lingo  Dan,  "have 
you  not  broken  bread  with  us.  Surely  an  Em- 
peror, like  an  Arab,  would  not  refuse  a  favor 
after  breaking  bread." 

He  rang  for  pen  and  ink.  Then  from  his 
notes  he  dictated  a  curt  line  or  two,  that  the 
Emperor  wrote  down,  and  signed. 

"And  now,"  said  the  acting  host,  "our  pleas- 
ant dinner  comes  to  an  end.  It  is  one  that  I 
shall  treasure  as  the  greatest  repast  of  my  life. 
While  my  conscience  rebukes  me  for  the  man- 
ner in  which  we  engaged  your  Majesty's  pres- 
ence on  board,  I  am  consoled  by  the  thought 
that  the  dinner  was  excellent,  and  the  wines  not 
unfit  for  an  Emperor.  We  have  merely  used  a 
few  hours  of  your  Majesty's  time,  and  we  have 
done  the  cause  of  our  country  a  trifling  good 
turn,  yet  we  are  the  richer  by  having  seen  and 
talked  to  the  keenest  artist  of  the  time.  Oh, 
by  the  way,  your  Majesty,  will  you  send  word 
to  your  officers — dining,  I  fancy,  elsewhere  in 
this  good  boat — to  leave  with  you  at  the 
Hook?  Will  you  send  them  a  message  telling 
them  your  stay  with  us  was  just  a  mere  im- 
perial whim?  Then  all  will  be  ready  for  your 
leaving  us." 

And  so,  when  daybreak  came,  an  Emperor 
stepped  aboard  a  small  boat,  waved  his  hand 
once  to  two  figures  on  the  deck  of  the  Hazvk, 
and  had  his  men  pull  to  the  shore. 


LINGO  DAN 


85 


As  the  Hawk  went  skimming  across  the 
shining,  waveless  waters,  Lingo  Dan  turned 
his  eye  up  to  the  bare  poles. 

"Run  up  the  Stars  and  Stripes !"  he  called  to 
Smalley. 

Then,  as  the  flag  flew  out  behind  the  yacht, 
he  looked  at  Billy  with  a  smile. 

"We've  served  our  country,  Billy,  served 
our  country.  It's  not  everybody  that  does  that 
— for  nothing." 

Some  weeks  later,  when  the  United  States 
generally  were  somewhat  concerned  as  to 
whether  a  certain  European  Power  would  in- 
terfere in  the  naval  encounters  near  Manila,  the 
neighborhood  of  Larchmont,  on  Long  Is- 
land Sound,  was  thrown  into  excitement  by 
the  fact  that  the  private  yacht  of  Willie  K. 
Elkhorn  had  anchored  there  one  night,  and 
that  a  certain  Captain  Winters,  with  a  com- 
panion, according  to  the  statement  of  Sailing- 
master  Smalley,  had  never  since  been  heard  of. 
But  over  in  a  shaded  meadow,  near  the  New 
Haven  track,  two  men  lay  listening  to  the  birds 
and  insects.  And  these  were  the  only  two  men 
in  America  who  knew  why  there  would  be  no 
interference  with  America  in  the  Far  East. 

"I  shouldn't  wonder,  Billy,"  one  of  these 
two  men  remarked,  after  he  had  laughed  aloud 


86 


LINGO  DAN 


at  his  silent  thoughts,  "if  it  was  decidedly  un- 
healthy for  the  real  Willie  K.  Elkhorn  when 
next  he  goes  to  Europe."  Then  he  laughed 
again.  "And  as  for  Captain  Winters — But 
I'll  bet  he  wouldn't  have  had  the  fun  with  that 
yacht  that  we  did,  to  say  nothing  of — h'm,  sav- 
ing the  country.    Would  he,  Billy?" 

"Not  by  a  damned  sight,"  was  the  answer. 


CHAPTER  V 


TELLING   OF    SOME    RIFLE    BULLETS   AND  THE 
INVENTION  OF  A  SOMEWHAT 
SPLENDID  LIE 

Two  men  lay  face  downward  in  the  rank 
underbrush.  At  intervals  their  cheeks  leaned 
over  rifle-barrels,  and  the  hot  air  rang  with 
shots,  while  their  shoulders  ached  so  that  one 
of  the  men  grumbled  audibly.  From  the  slopes 
facing  them  came  a  constant  crackling,  fol- 
lowed by  a  malignant  hissing  note  that  swayed 
and  cut  through  the  leaves  about  them. 

One  of  the  men  suddenly  put  his  face  down 
into  the  grass  and  flung  his  rifle  down.  "It's 
too  hot,"  he  said. 

The  other  turned  a  trifle  and  surveyed  his 
companion.  "Billy,"  he  declared,  "your  con- 
cise manner  of  expressing  the  truth  is  worth 
much  poetry.  You  are  right — the  heat  is  un- 
speakably atrocious.  And  yet — "  he  put  down 
his  rifle,  and  rested  his  head  on  one  hand — 
"and  yet,  Billy,  in  the  matter  of  poetry,  do  you 
know  that  if  I  were  a  poet  I  could  find  a  sub- 
ject in  this  very  weird  whistling  that  now — 


88 


LINGO  DAN 


well,  that  makes  these  quarters  of  ours  so  un- 
pleasantly unsafe.  I  should  call  it  The  Song 
of  the  Mauser.'  I  should  think  it  might  appeal 
to  Kipling.    Listen,  Billy !" 

The  crackling  from  the  yonder  slopes  and 
the  whistling  over  the  heads  of  these  two  came 
almost  simultaneously. 

"Just  like  the  peewits  moaning  over  their 
nests,"  said  the  longer  of  the  two  men.  "Billy, 
am  I  right  in  thinking  you  uncomfortable  ?" 

"Oh,"  growled  Billy,  "shut  up!" 

"Strange,  Billy,  that  you  should  use  that 
phrase.  Shut  up !  Does  it  never  occur  to  you 
the  while  we  are — ahem — exposing  our  bodies 
for  the  sake  of  fair  Cuba  and  the  Stars  and 
Stripes,  that  if  kind  fate  had  not  given  me  the 
happy  inspiration  of  making  for  this  self-same 
corner  of  God's  great  sun-kissed  foot-stool  we 
should  at  this  moment  be  both  secure,  and 
snug,  and  cribbed,  and  cabin' d,  and  confined, 
and  all  the  rest  of  it,  in  jail?  Have  you  for- 
gotten those  little  matters  of  the  venerable  par- 
son, the  conscientious  sheriff,  the  emperor, 
the  — " 

A  bullet  from  the  slopes  cut  a  slice  out  of 
Billy's  hat.  Billy  took  up  his  rifle  with  a  vic- 
ious snort,  and  flung  his  retort  of  lead  at  the 
enemy.  The  powder  from  his  clumsy  Spring- 
field draped  the  couple  with  a  veil  of  smoke 
that  made  an  excellent  target  for  the  Span- 
iards.   Bullets  began  cutting  the  leaves  and 


LINGO  DAN 


89 


stalks  as  if  some  unseen  scythe  were  at  work. 
Billy  growled  louder. 

"Oh,  Dan!" 

"Well?" 

"I'd  rather  be  in  jail." 

For  a  time  there  was  silence  between  them. 
The  sun  scorched  them,  and  the  bullets  sang 
their  sinister  songs  to  them.  Then  the  tall 
man's  soft,  musically  modulated  voice  began, 
as  if  it  were  a  monologue. 

"Dear  Billy,  you  have,  I  grieve  to  observe, 
but  little  appreciation  of  the  good  and  beauti- 
ful. Does  no  notion  of  the  beauty  of  our  pres- 
ent position  strike  you  ?  Think  of  it,  my  dear 
Billy!  We,  of  whose  persons  the  United 
States  government  is  so  enamored  that  it  has 
sent  special  requisitions  after  us — offering,  in- 
deed, quite  substantial  rewards  for  the  person 
fortunate  enough  to  find  us — we,  I  say,  to  es- 
cape the  public  honors  that  the  authorities  no 
doubt  intend  to  bestow  upon  us,  have  taken  to 
the  disguise  of  the  volunteer  army.  We  are 
fighting  for  the  flag.  We  are  fighting  for  Cu- 
ban freedom.  We  are  heroes.  We  are  fight- 
ing the  nation  that  blew  up  the  Maine.  We 
are  fighting — " 

"Rats !"  Billy  almost  spat  the  word  onto  the 
grass.    "I'm  fighting  for  the  loot." 

Dan  raised  himself  a  trifle  to  catch  Billy's 
eye.  "Billy,  you  astound  me.  Loot?  Loot? 
I  don't  remember  the  word's  meaning.  Fame, 


9o 


LINGO  DAN 


honor,  revenge ;  I  know  that  the  world  expects 
a  soldier  to  be  inspired  by  these  things.  But 
loot!"  He  smiled  at  Billy's  rumblings.  Then 
he  added,  even  more  softly  than  before,  as  if 
the  grass  or  some  Spanish  bullet  might  over- 
hear, "Incidentally,  Billy,  you  will  kindly  re- 
member that  in  the  matter  of  loot  you  will 
keep  your  hands  off  until  I — "  He  stopped 
suddenly,  gripped  his  rifle  to  him,  and  hissed 
under  his  breath : 

"A  crazy  man — or  a  coward !  Look,  com- 
ing this  way !" 

Coming  towards  them,  headlong  over  the 
clear  space  to  their  right,  was  a  figure  in  blue 
and  buff.  To  cross  that  open  ground  was  al- 
most certain  death.  To  the  Spaniards  on  the 
slopes  before  them  the  man  must  be  cut  out 
clearly  as  a  silhoutte.  From  where  the  man 
was  coming  another  infantry  regiment  was 
fighting  its  way  up  the  slopes. 

The  man  must  have  left  those  ranks.  Dan 
and  Billy  watched  silently.  The  man  plunged 
headlong  towards  them. 

"It's  a  coward,"  said  Dan,  presently.  "I  can 
see  his  face.  It's  got  stage-fright  written  over 
it." 

The  runner  dropped,  in  a  flash,  to  the  grass. 
One  of  the  singing  bullets  had  found  him.  He 
lay  in  the  sun-glare,  a  mere  dark  spot  on  the 
clearing. 


LINGO  DAN 


91 


Over  on  the  right  the  regiment  that  this 
coward  had  fled  from  was  being  beaten  back. 
It  moved  gradually  further  to  the  right  flank 
of  the  attacking  line.  In  the  regiment  to  which 
Dan  and  Billy  belonged  came  the  command  for 
deploying  more  to  the  left.  The  ground  on 
both  sides  of  the  clearing  was  to  be  deserted. 

Warily,  painfully,  the  men  crawled  through 
the  underbrush,  edging  away  from  the  clear- 
ing. Only  Dan  and  Billy  had  not  yet  joined 
in  the  regiment's  change  of  base.  Dan's  eyes 
were  still  fixed  on  that  dark  spot  that  lay  out 
there  in  the  open. 

Billy  growled  with  impatience.  "Coming?" 
he  said,  and  turned  to  rejoin  the  regiment. 

But  Dan  seized  him  by  the  shoulder.  "Look ; 
look  out  there!"  The  spot  of  darkness  on  the 
sunlight  open  was  moving,  was  crawling.  The 
man  tried  to  rise;  he  fell  back  again,  with  his 
legs  crumpled  under  him.  Dan  looked  at  Billy. 
A  buzzard  circled  high  above  them.  A  faint 
shudder  went  through  Dan  as  he  swept  his 
keen  eyes  from  the  spot  in  the  clearing  to  the 
spot  in  the  sky. 

"Come,  Billy!"  said  Dan,  and  without  an- 
other word  the  two  flashed  out  into  the  open. 
The  bullets  thickened  all  about  them,  but  they 
never  stopped  until  they  had  reached  the  man 
who  was  wanted  by  death  and  the  buzzards. 

Back  in  their  regiment  a  cheer  broke  out. 
Dan  and  Billy  were  carrying  the  man  across 


92 


LINGO  DAN 


the  clearing  into  the  protection  of  the  thick- 
ets. Some  miracle  seemed  to  keep  the  Spanish 
bullets  away  from  them,  or  else  the  sheer 
splendid  folly  of  the  thing  diverted  the  aim  of 
the  enemy. 

The  man  whose  mortally  wounded  body 
these  two  had  brought  into  such  shelter  as 
was  possible  was,  after  all,  little  more  than  a 
boy.  A  white  face,  with  the  outlines  fine  and 
delicate,  the  stamp  of  race  plain  on  its  front. 
The  regimental  surgeon  shook  his  head  over 
the  boy's  closed  eyes.  "You  got  him  decent 
burial,  that's  about  all,"  he  said  to  Dan. 

Dan  smiled  sweetly.  "My  dear  doctor,"  he 
replied,  and  at  the  man's  enunciation  the  sur- 
geon gave  a  start  and  squinted  with  surprise, 
"my  reward  is  not  so  much  the  boy's  actual 
salvation  as  the  exquisiteness  of  my  own  sen- 
sations." The  surgeon  was  for  asking  him 
who  he  was,  when  other  wounded  claimed  his 
attention. 

The  wounded  boy's  head  was  resting  in 
Dan's  lap.  Presently  his  eyes  opened.  The 
lips  shivered  like  leaves  stirring  in  the  faintest 
of  breezes.    Finally  sound  came. 

"My  name — my  name."  Then  the  lips 
worked  for  a  few  seconds  in  mere  struggles 
for  breath.  "Look — my  right  breast."  Dan 
put  his  hand  into  the  boy's  shirt,  and  brought 
out  a  smaller  leather  case. 


LINGO  DAN 


93 


"Yes.  Open  it."  Dan  took  from  the  case  a 
card.    He  read  the  name,  and  nodded  his  head. 

"Don't  let — the  others  know."  The  boy 
tried  to  smile. 

"You — I  can  see — you  know.  I  don't  care, 
but — don't  let  the  others  know.  Bury  me — 
here.  And — listen.  My  father — you  must  tell 
my  father — that  I  died — in  battle." 

Something  misty  came  into  Dan's  eyes.  He 
took  the  limp  hand  of  the  dying,  gasping 
youngster.  All  his  wonted  elaborateness  of 
phrase  went  from  him.  "All  right,  old  man," 
he  said,  cheerily,  "I'll  tell  him.  I'll  find  him. 
Never  fear,  I'll  tell  him." 

"He — he  was  a  soldier.  He — hates  a — a 
*  coward." 

The  dying  coward  was  quiet  for  a  moment 
or  so.  Then  his  eyes  turned  to  Dan  with  the 
sudden  flame  that  comes  before  the  snufning 
out  of  all  light. 

"What's  your — name?"  said  the  fading 
voice. 

"My  name?"  A  long,  thin  hand  went  softly 
over  the  boy's  forehead.  "I'm  called  Lingo 
Dan."  Again  there  was  silence,  and  then  Dan 
spoke  again.  "And  this — this  is  Billy."  He 
nodded  to  the  bulky,  squat  figure  of  his  com- 
panion. 

The  boy  looked  from  one  to  the  other. 
"Good-by— Dan.    Good-by,  Billy!" 


94 


LINGO  DAN 


The  eyes  closed  slowly,  as  if  their  owner 
were  sinking  into  a  doze.  Presently  Dan  put 
his  ear  to  the  boy's  lips.  Then  he  lifted  a  fin- 
ger, and  beckoned  to  Billy  to  take  the  dead 
man's  head  and  place  it  flat  to  earth. 

Several  months  afterward,  when  there  was 
left  of  the  Spanish-American  war  nothing  but 
the  wrangling  over  the  proctocol  in  Paris,  two 
men,  in  attire  distinctly  unfashionable,  went  up 
the  steps  of  a  house  in  the  most  fashionable 
part  of  Fifth  avenue.  The  footman  who  opened 
the  door  looked  at  them  suspiciously.  But 
something  on  the  card  that  the  taller  of  the  two 
presented  made  him  hurry  to  his  maste**  in  a 
manner  that  was  almost  undignified. 

In  the  vast  hallway  Dan  and  Billy  surveyed 
their  surroundings  with  the  eyes  of  connois- 
seurs. 

"Silver,"  remarked  Dan,  "to  the  tune  of 
several  hundreds.  A  most  reckless,  a  most  in- 
decent exposure.  The  china  is  also  rare.  Most 
of  it,  moreover,  is  easily  portable.  A  feast  for 
the  eye.   And  for  the  pocket — " 

A  door  far  down  the  corridor  opened,  and  a 
tall,  white-haired  man  in  black  came  eagerly 
towards  them.    Instinctively  he  turned  to  Dan. 

"Come  in,  come  in,"  he  said,  putting  a  hand 
on  a  shoulder  of  each,  and  almost  pushing  them 
into  his  study.  The  room  was  barely  fur- 
nished. Books  hid  the  walls  except  where  pic- 
tures hung;  these  latter  were  all  battle  scenes. 


LINGO  DAN 


95 


"Of  course,"  said  the  old  man,  "I  knew  it 
would  have  to  come.  I  knew  he  must  be  dead. 
And  yet  I  kept  on  hoping.  One  will  keep  on 
hoping,  you  know,  so  long  after  hope  itself  is 
dead.  But  there  were  so  many  curious  circum- 
stances— "  He  stopped  quickly,  and  changed 
his  tone.    "You  saw  him  die?" 

The  other  two  nodded. 

Confidence  came  into  this  father's  face  once 
more.  "There  were  so  many  curious  circum- 
stances. The  boy  thought  himself  in  disgrace. 
He  went  away,  foolishly,  boy-like,  to  wipe  out 
what  he  called  a  stain.  Sometimes  I  used  to 
try  to  fancy  he  would  still  come  back ;  that  he 
was  merely  plucking  up  courage  to  face  the 
world,  to  face  society,  to  face  me.  Just  as 
if — "  he  paused  and  looked  out  of  the  window 
— "just  as  if  I  would  not  have  taken  him  at  any 
risk."  He  began  to  fumble  with  the  little 
leather  case  that  Dan  silently  handed  him. 
Suddenly  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  began  to 
pace  the  room.  Then  he  shook  his  head  like 
an  angry  lion.  "Bah !"  he  said,  "I'm  weak.  I 
get  old."  He  sat  down  again.  "Tell  me  how 
he  died.  With  a  brave  front,  of  course.  Tell 
me;  I  can  listen.  He  comes  of  a  race  of  sol- 
diers. We  all  die  fighting."  He  smiled,  and 
signaled  to  Dan  to  proceed. 

Dan  cleared  his  throat  a  little.  Billy  scraped 
an  awkward  foot  heavily  over  the  thick  carpet. 


96 


LINGO  DAN 


"He  died,"  began  Dan,  "with  his  face  to  the 
foe.  His  death  was  a  splendid  folly.  A  com- 
rade was  wounded,  lying  in  a  clearing,  target 
for  all  of  Spain's  bullets.  Your  son,  sir, 
sprang  out  into  the  open,  picked  up  the  woun- 
ded man,  brought  him  into  the  lines  again,  and 
then  fell.  He  was  shot  in  no  less  than  three 
places.  I  observed  to  Billy,  I  may  remark — 
have  I  introduced  Billy  to  you  ? — at  the  time  of 
your  son's  magnificent  bravado,  that  so  fear- 
less a  son  must  surely  have  had  a  fearless 
father.  That,  of  course,"  he  dropped  his  voice 
a  little,  "was  before  I  knew."  He  bowed  to- 
ward the  old  man. 

The  old  man  was  on  his  feet  again,  striding 
about  the  room  nervously.  "You  saw  him  die, 
you  saw  him  die.  I  wish  I  had  been  there.  It 
atones  for  everything,  does  a  death  like  that. 
Oh,  yes,  there  was  much  to  atone  for,  much. 
But — a  death  like  that !  Good  boy,  good  boy !" 
He  went  to  the  window  and  looked  across  the 
avenue,  and  at  the  passing  strollers.  "Did  he 
speak — before  the  end?" 

"He  was  in  my  arms.  He  wanted  me  to  tell 
you.  I  promised."  Dan  did  not  look  into  the 
old  man's  eyes.  He  was  looking  at  Billy,  whose 
eyes  were  roaming  about  the  walls,  computing 
the  value  of  the  hangings. 

"He  died  in  your  arms?"  The  old  man's 
glance  went  suddenly  up  and  down,  through 


LINGO  DAN 


97 


and  through  his  two  visitors.  "You  have  been 
mustered  out?  Yes.  Have  you  employment, 
or  profession?" 

Dan's  smile  curled  about  his  mouth  corners. 
"We  have,"  he  said,  "our  profession." 

The  rich  man,  thinking  of  his  son  and  his 
millions,  hesitated.  Something  in  this  tall 
man's  manner  spoke  the  gentleman,  the  man  to 
whom  it  was  impossble  to  offer  alms,  to  tender 
rewards.  "For  the  man  in  whose  arms  my  son 
died,  the  man  who  tells  me  of  the  splendor  of 
my  son's  death,"  he  said  finally,  "there  is  noth- 
ing in  this  world  that  I  would  not  do.  I  want 
you  to  remember  that.  Shall  I  hope,  as  be- 
tween gentlemen,  that  if  there  is  ever  anything 
in  my  power  you  will  let  me  know  ?" 

Dan  looked  at  the  master  of  the  house  with 
a  strange  gaze.  "Some  day — perhaps.  Who 
knows?  But  for  the  present  I  have  merely 
done  my  duty.  My  name?  The  name  I  wear 
is  Lingo  Dan.  It  was  the  name  your  son  knew 
me  by.  Your  son — who  died  in  battle."  He 
got  up  to  go,  and  signed  to  Billy.  "I  know 
that  you  wish  to  be  alone.  But  you  must  think 
only  of  this — your  son  died  in  the  forefront  of 
the  fight,  with  his  face  to  the  foe." 

The  master  of  the  house  looked  at  the 
speaker  with  suddenly  brimming  eyes.  "You 
are  right,"  he  said,  "it  is  a  fine  thing  to  linger 
over.   With  his  face  to  the  foe — his  face  to  the 


98 


LINGO  DAN 


foe !"  He  shook  hands  with  them  silently,  and 
closed  the  door  after  them. 

The  hall  was  deserted.  Its  silver  and  gauds 
stood  unprotected.  But  the  two  passed  swiftly 
out  to  the  avenue  as  if  they  were  afraid  of  fol- 
lowing ghosts. 


CHAPTER  VI 


IN  WHICH  IT  IS  SHOWN  HOW  ONE  MAY  ENTER 
SOCIETY  WITHOUT  BEING  INTRODUCED 

How  they  had  come  by  it  is  little  matter.  It 
was,  without  any  chance  of  dispute,  a  very 
smart  dog-cart.  The  cob  between  the  shafts 
had  all  the  requirements — action,  style  and 
pace.  The  turnout,  in  fact,  as  a  complete  pic- 
ture, glittered  and  flashed  in  the  sunlight.  Had 
you  been  one  of  the  charmed  circle  that  hunt 
and  play  polo  over  certain  well-favored  dis- 
tricts of  Long  Island  you  would  have  looked  at 
the  picture  I  have  hastily  sketched,  and  your 
first  thought  would  have  been  to  try  and  place 
the  tall  gentleman  who  held  the  whip,  to  recall 
in  just  what  gallery  he  belonged;  whether  it 
was  at  the  last  hunt  ball  or  the  most  recent  in- 
ternational wedding  that  you  had  met  him.  If 
you  were  merely  one  of  the  vast  majority  out- 
side the  pale,  you  must  perforce  have  hesitated 
not  a  second  about  assigning  him  and  his  to 
his  evident  sphere.  He,  his  man,  his  trap  and 
his  horse  all  seemed  stamped  with  the  hall- 
mark of  smartness. 


LINGO  DAN 


The  cob  went  merrily  clicking  over  the  blue- 
gray  macadam.  In  the  distance  you  could  hear 
the  ocean  rolling  gently  against  the  shore;  in- 
sects hummed  in  the  sunny  morning  air ;  every- 
thing aspired  to  the  making  of  pleasant  moods. 

"My  hand  has  not  lost  its  cunning,"  said 
the  gentleman  on  the  box-seat,  as  they  turned 
a  nasty  corner  most  dexterously.  "Yet — I 
quail,  Billy,  I  positively  quail  at  admitting  the 
number  of  years  since  I  did  this  sort  of  thing." 

They  drove  in  silence  for  a  time,  and  then 
the  same  voice  rang  out,  with  a  quiet  chuckle : 
"Billy,  do  you  realize  that  you  look — immacu- 
late? The  fit  seems  tight,  perhaps,  but — on 
my  word,  good  William,  it  shows  your  figure 
most  exactly.  A  really  providental  fit.  And 
mine  ?" 

Billy  nodded  his  head  and  grinned.  That 
was  notoriously  the  nearest  approach  he  ever 
made  to  sociability.  It  was,  in  this  case,  to  be 
construed  into  complete  approval  of  the  other's 
apparel. 

"I  am  glad  you  like  it.  I  think,  myself" — 
he  stopped  to  survey  his  trousers,  his  driving 
coat,  his  boots  and  his  hat  and  gloves — "that 
it  is  rather  neat.  Do  you  notice  how  it  spurs 
one's  optimism  to  be  well  dressed,  Billy?  With 
the  consciousness  that  not  the  most  censorious 
can  pick  a  flaw  in  one's  exterior,  how  one's 
spirit  does  plume  itself!  A  vanity,  no  doubt, 
a  hollow  vanity ;  yet,  to  the  true  philosopher,  a 


LINGO  DAN 


IOI 


vanity  that  conceals  a  subtle  significance. 
Conscious  of  looking  our  best,  are  we  not  ca- 
pable of  achivements  we  would  otherwise  never 
find  courage  for?  Why,  Billy,  clad  as  I  am,  I 
could,  without  the  quiver  of  an  eyelash,  assume 
once  more  that  position  in  the  world's  society 
that,  in  the  beginning  and  by  rights,  is  mine, 
that—" 

He  ceased  suddenly,  his  eyes  roving  over  the 
gentle  slopes  before  him.  He  smiled,  flicked 
the  cob  over  the  flanks  slightly,  and  said :  "I'll 
do  it,  I'll  do  it." 

Before  them  stretched  the  most  deliciously 
velvet  lawns,  reaching  up  to  a  white  mansion 
in  the  old  colonial  manner,  pillared  and  wide- 
porched,  that  stood  against  the  brow  of  the  lit- 
tle hill,  with  elms  nodding  beside  its  roof.  The 
gay  colors  of  fair  dresses  made  bright  spots 
against  the  background  of  the  picture;  voices 
and  laughter  came  floating  down  on  the  breeze. 

"It's  a  risk,  Billy ;  a  great  risk.  But  I  think 
we  can  carry  the  thing  off  properly.  At  the 
worst,  we  can  vow  we've  made  a  mistake,  eh? 
the  best  of  us  make  mistakes.  Shall  we  join 
them."  He  nodded  to  the  lawns  that  were  now 
more  clearly  visible,  and  to  the  keeper's  gate, 
that  began  to  show  around  the  bend  of  the 
road.    Billy  merely  looked  his  bewilderment. 

"Join 'em?" 

"Certainly;  join  them — I,  the  members  of 
the  party  on  the  lawn;  you,   the  overfed 


102 


LINGO  DAN 


footmen  and  grooms.  Why  not?  It  is  true, 
we  have  not  been  invited;  but,  my  dear  Billy, 
did  it  ever  occur  to  you  that1  it  is  the  men  who^ 
have  not  waited  for  invitations  who  have  sue-  - 
ceeded  in  the  world  ?'  Besides,  what  if  we  are 
frowned  on  ?  Have  we  not  this  steed  and  these 
wheels !  As  for  you,  it  is  simple  enough ;  you 
have  merely  to  keep  reasonably  still  and  to  re- 
frain from  sampling  the  liquors  too  indiscrimi- 
nately." 

Billy  grunted  at  the  tightness  of  his  coat. 
He  looked  as  if  he  would  like  to  rip  it  open 
with  one  forcible  wrench.  He  grunted  again,  as 
a  thought  came  to  him;  a  grunt  half  of  an- 
guish at  the  labor  imposed  by  thinking,  half  by 
way  of  fixing  Lingo  Dan's  attention. 

"But  what  about — dose?"  He  nodded  into 
the  distance  that  lay  behind.  He  seemed  to  be 
about  to  say  more,  to  specify  more  closely,  but 
his  tongue  got  out  nothing  beyond  that 
"dose;"  the  gesture  over  his  shoulder  was  his 
only  finish  to  his  thought. 

"Our  late  antagonists  in  argument,  do  you 
mean  ?  Tush !  why  think  of  them  ?  Let  us  for- 
get them.  They  served  us  pleasantly;  they 
were  the  instruments  of  a  benign  fate  that  de- 
sired our  prosperity;  they  came  at  an  oppor- 
tune time  to  mend  our  fortunes ;  in  the  mend- 
ing of  ours,  they  suffered  a  little — that  is  all; 
they  are  past,  they  are  in  the  behind.  Have  I 
not  been  tedious  enough  whenever  I  have  pot- 


LINGO  DAN 


tered  about  in  the  past?  Let  us  forget  them. 
Let  us  thank  our  Maker  that  they  had  such  ex- 
cellent tailors  and  were  so  thoughtful  as  to 
be  built  so  exactly  in  the  mould  of — our  poor 
selves.  But  otherwise — "  He  waved  his  whip 
significantly  over  the  highway,  as  if  sweeping 
the  subject  away. 

But  Billy,  frowning  and  scratching  his  stub- 
bly head,  came  upon  another  obstacle.  "But 
what's  our  names?" 

"M  or  N,  Billy;  M  or  N.  Which  being 
translated  means,  that  it  all  depends.  Use 
your  wits,  Billy;  find  'em,  if  you  can,  and  use 
'em.  You  know  the  first  letter  in  our  alpha- 
bet: never  give  a  direct  answer.  Be  as  Irish 
as  you  can;  never  meet  a  question;  go  around 
it.  As  for  me,  I  shall  follow  the  cue  of  circum- 
stances." 

They  were  passing  the  keeper's  lodge,  their 
wheels  scraping  over  the  fine  gravel  of  the 
winding,  smoothly  leveled  private  driveway. 
Neatly  ordered  shrubs  and  colorful  flower-beds 
flanked  the  drive.  Whirling  spurts  of  water 
sprinkled  the  lawns  at  intervals.  Some  fox- 
hounds came  bounding  over  the  turf,  leaping 
beside  the  cob  and  the  cart. 

The  cob  clattered  to  the  porte-cochere  with 
a  most  spectacular  flourish.  The  ladies  on  the 
lawn  lifted  their  pince-nez  and  their  eyebrows. 

"Not  a  bit  like  Tommy  Darrough,"  said  one 
of  them. 


104 


LINGO  DAN 


''No/'  said  another;  "he  always  does  it  as  if 
he  were  afraid  of  his  varnish." 

A  figure  in  white  muslin  gave  a  smothered 
exclamation  and  pushed  through  the  bevy  of 
ladies  with  the  haste  and  authority  of  the  hos- 
tess. 

"My  dear  Lord  Orson,  so  good  of  you,"  she 
said,  holding  her  hand  out  to  the  newcomer 
and  smiling  with  the  effusiveness  of  a  marion- 
ette ;  "we'd  really  quite  given  you  up ;  we  were 
quite  melancholy  about  it." 

He  shook  her  hand  gravely. 

"I  should  never  have  forgiven  myself,"  he 
said. 

"And  you  are  alone  ?" 

"My  dear  lady — one  would  always  like  to  be 
alone,  with  you." 

She  laughed  and  tried  to  blush ;  but  her  own 
handiwork  succeeded  in  defeating  the  natural 
wave  of  color. 

"I  mean,"  she  continued,  "that  Mr.  Dar- 
rough  couldn't  come.  He  telephoned  me,  you 
know,  yesterday  that  he  would  bring  you  over 
and—" 

"Ah,  yes.    That  was  yesterday." 
"He's  not  ill?"    She  pretended  quite  genu- 
ine alarm. 

He  smiled,  and  began  kicking  the  turf  gently 
with  his  boot.  He  lowered  his  eyes.  Then  he 
looked,  smilingly,  into  her  eyes. 


LINGO  DAN 


"Poor  Tommy !"  he  began,  and  she  gave  him 
time  for  nothing  more,  but  laughed  out  at  him 
shrilly. 

"Oh,  I  see;  so  stupid  of  me.  Yes;  isn't  it  a 
pity?  He  will,  once  in  a  while ;  it's  in  the  fam- 
ily ;  he  says  he  likes  to  keep  the  family  tradition 
afloat.    Still,  sometimes  he  comes — like  that." 

"He  must  be  very  interesting — like  that." 

"You  are  quite  right.  He  really  is;  he  is 
quite  witty.  I  tell  him  that  he's  always  wel- 
come, because  when  he's  quite  sober  he's  as  im- 
posing as  a  curate,  and  when  he's  not  he's  al- 
most as  clever  as  one  of  those  fellows  you  pay 
to  entertain  you.    Is  he  very  bad?" 

"Very." 

"Well,  I'm  sorry.  Still,  it  was  awfully  good 
of  you  to  come  aione.  It  hadn't  occurred  to 
me.  Tommy  Darrough  thinks  nobody  can 
drive  that  cob  but  himself,  you  see — " 

"I  never  had  a  horse  I  didn't  have  the  same 
delusion  about." 

"But  I'm  dreadfully  selfish.  I've  not  pre- 
sented you  to  a  soul.  I  know  the  other  women 
are  calling  me  names.    Come !" 

She  led  him  into  the  middle  of  the  group, 
and  for  a  minute  or  so  there  was  a  merry  bab- 
ling  of  feminine  voces.  He  emerged  from  it 
with  a  Titian-tinted  beauty  whose  name  he  had 
faintly  caught  as  Miss  Carrick. 

"Tell  me,"  she  whispered,  "about  Mr.  Dar- 
rough." 


lo6 


LINGO  DAN 


He  was  still  admiring  the  generalship  with 
which  she  had  steered  him  out  of  that  scrim- 
mage and  annexed  him.  Besides,  he  scented 
danger. 

"I  would  far  rather  talk  about  you,"  he  said. 
"You  are  a  friend  of  Mr.  Darrough's,  aren't 
you?"  she  went  on;  "a  real  friend,  I  mean." 
"I  hope  so." 

"Do  you  know  what  Mrs.  Noysse  is  saying  ? 
That  Mr.  Darrough  is — "  She  put  out  her 
hands  with  a  spreading  out  of  the  fingers.  "Oh, 
I  can't  say  it." 

"If  it  were  true,  would  you  care?"  He 
watched  her,  with  amusement  sparkling  in  his 
eyes. 

"Of  course.  Hasn't  he  told  you  ?  Don't  men 
speak  of  those  things?  We're  engaged — con- 
ditionally.   Do  you  wonder  I  care?" 

"I  admire  you  for  caring.  Darrough's  to  be 
envied."  He  coughed  slightly.  "Beautiful 
place  of  his,  don't  you  think  so?" 

"Yes,  yes.  But  you  didn't  tell  me  what  I 
wanted  to  know.  When  you  left  him,  was  he 
— did  he — have  you  no  message  from  him  for 
me?" 

He  looked  at  her  without  reply  for  what 
seemed  to  her  an  age.  It  was,  when  you  think 
wrong  thing;  it  needed  time. 

"He  told  me,"  he  said,  finally,  "that  when  I 
found  the  most  beautiful  girl  here  I  was  to  give 
her  this."    He  handed  her  the  orchid  from  his 


LINGO  DAN 


107 


buttonhole,  an  orchid  that  grew  nowhere  else 
on  the  island  but  in  the  greenhouses  at  Dar- 
rough  Court.  Then  he  turned  quickly  and  left 
her  clutching  the  flower.  He  meant  to  take  a 
quick  glance  at  the  stables  that  he  might  assure 
himself  on  the  subject  of  his  man,  but  an  asth- 
matic dowager  sailed  across  his  bows  before  he 
could  escape. 

"You  know,  Lord  Orson,  I  knew  your 
father.   You're  his  image." 

"You  flatter  me." 

"Yes;  you're  really  very  like  him.  He  pro- 
posed to  me  twice." 

"He  was  always  persistent." 

"International  marriages  were  not  the  fash- 
ion then;  my  father  wouldn't  allow  it.  But  I 
was  dreadfully  fond  of  him.  Did  he  ever 
speak  of  me?" 

"Often.    I  was  to  look  you  up." 

"Ah,  I'm  glad  he  remembers.  Well,  you 
must  come  and  see  me.  We'll  be  in  our  town 
house  again  next  month.    Mind  you  come." 

"How  do  I  get  there  ?" 

"Cab  it." 

"Ah,  of  course.  You're  very  good.  I'll  not 
forget."  He  bowed  over  her  hand,  leaving  her 
rioting  in  her  memories  of  youth. 

"I  wonder,"  he  thought  to  himself,  "who  my 
father  was,  and  who  the  dear  old  dame  is,  and 
whether  that  girl  with  the  sunset  hair  thinks 
her  fiance  is  intoxicated  or  only  tired  ?" 


io8 


LINGO  DAN 


Upon  that  thought  the  hostess  broke  in. 

"Dear  Lord  Orson,"  she  twittered,  putting 
her  head  on  one  side,  like  a  bird,  "I'm  sure  you 
like  Chopin." 

"How  did  you  tell  ?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  it's  in  your  eyes.  I  can  always  tell  by  a 
person's  eyes  whether  they  like  Chopin  or  not. 
Chopin,  like  the  soul,  is  all  in  the  eyes.  Do  you 
like  him  a  la  Pachmann  or — " 

"I  like  Chopin  when  he  is  most  Chopin- 
esque." 

"Ah,  how  true  that  is.  You  are  right.  But 
when  is  he  that?" 

"Who  knows?  It  is  something  one  cannot 
define." 

"Yes,  that's  it,  isn't  it?  My  husband  never 
could  stand  Chopin.  I  believe  he  died  of  too 
much  Chopin." 

"One  cannot  avoid  Chopin  by  dying." 

"You  mean  he  is — up  higher?  How  beauti- 
fully you  put  that!  Are  you  a  musician,  too? 
I  thought  all  Englishmen  cared  for  was  horses 
and  dogs.  Tommy  Darrough  can't  stand  Cho- 
pin; he  told  me  once  he  considered  Chopin  a 
particularly  acute  form  of  indigestion." 

"Tommy's  very  material." 

"Yes.  But  I  do  think  he  plays  an  entranc- 
ing game  of  polo.   Of  course  you  play?" 

"What  if  I  didn't?" 

"Oh,  I  couldn't  think  it!" 


LINGO  DAN 


109 


"Don't  you  think  Chopin  and  polo  are 
rather  extremes?" 

"But  they're  the  fashion." 

"Where  extremes  meet  and  never  speak  to 
each  other.  Well,  I  do  play  polo ;  but  I  swore 
I  wouldn't  exhibit  on  this  side,  you  see,  so  I'm 
afraid—" 

"But  I — I  should  simply  love  to  see  you. 
Won't  you,  for  me?" 

She  leaned  close  to  him,  so  that  he  could 
discern  the  various  strata  on  her  cheeks  quite 
plainly. 

"In  that  case,"  he  said,  "I  shall  play — if  it 
kills  me." 

With  that  little  victory  to  her  credit,  the  lady 
of  the  house  felt  that  her  reputation  as  coquette 
had  been  lived  up  to,  and  that  she  could  pass  to 
other  fields.  "I  see,"  she  declared,  with  a 
smile  that  exuded  intimacy  of  the  most  abso- 
lute sort,  "that  nobody  is  talking  to  little  Miss 
Remsden.  I  shall  have  to  do  it  myself;  these 
are  the  things  that  a  hostess  is  for,"  and  she 
fluttered  away,  leaving  him  fingering  his  chin. 

He  turned,  the  next  instant,  into  what 
seemed  one  of  the  stableyards,  where  a  groom 
was  apparent.    He  beckoned  to  him. 

"Will  you  see  if  you  can  find  Lord  Orson's 
man,  and  say  that  he  is  to  come  here  at  once?" 
he  said.  He  found  some  silver  in  the  ticket- 
pocket  of  his  coat,  and  gave  it  to  the  groom. 


no 


LINGO  DAN 


"Billy,"  he  said,  when  that  person  appeared, 
"the  thing  is  getting  too  warm.  I  have  med- 
dled in  another  man's  love  affair ;  I  have  prom- 
ised to  play  music  or  polo,  I've  forgotten 
which,  and  I'm  going  to  call  on  an  old  lady  I 
never  saw  before,  who  lives  I  don't  know 
where.  No  accidents  so  far;  but  I  smell  dan- 
ger. Yes,  I  smell  danger.  Incidentally,  Billy, 
I  observe,  by  my  sense  of  smell,  that  you  have 
been  wetting  your  whistle.  I  think  you  may 
as  well  consider  it  sufficiently  moist  for  the 
present.  Isn't  that  a  back  road  to  the  drive? 
Yes ;  it  is.  Well,  I  think  you'd  better  get  some 
of  the  other  grooms  to  harness  up  the  dog-cart 
for  you — do  the  jovial  business,  Billy — and  be 
waiting  just  at  the  turn  there,  in  case  anything 
happens.    Just  as  quickly  as  you  can,  mind!" 

Returning,  he  found  a  shriveled  up  gentle- 
man peering  about,  evidently  looking  for  some- 
one or  something.  "Ah,"  he  said,  as  he  came 
up,  "been  looking  for  you.  I'd  like  to  put  you 
up  at  the  Searinthian  Yacht  Club.  I'm  Com- 
modore, you  know.  Wish  you'd  come  up  to 
the  Newport  races  on  my  boat;  nice  lot  of 
people  going.    What  do  you  say,  eh?" 

"It's  very  kind  of  you.  I'll  have  to  put  it 
down;  I  really  forget,  you  see,  how  far  I'm 
engaged  ahead.    I'd  like  to,  I  assure  you." 

"Well,  then,  that's  all  right.  You'll  let  me 
know?    And  about  the  club — what's  your  full 


LINGO  DAN 


III 


name?  Foolish  of  me  not  to  know,  but  I  never 
do  remember  names." 

"The  title  will  be  enough." 

"Oh,  I  see.  All  right."  He  went  off,  nod- 
ding his  head,  and  giving  the  effect  of  a  mani- 
kin that  had  supersensitve  nerves. 

'He  wanted  my  full  name  ?  H'm ;  this  is  get- 
ting warm.  I  do  hope  Billy — "  Here  he  gave 
an  exclamation  and  strode  down  toward  the 
lawn  in  front  of  the  house.  Something  was  at- 
tracting all  the  attention — something  that  was 
happening  far  down  the  park,  near  the  gate- 
keeper's. The  ladies  were  calling  for  opera 
glasses. 

"Is  the  lodgekeeper  beating  his  wife?"  asked 
one,  and  "Tramps,  I  suppose,"  said  another. 

Whatever  it  was,  it  made  a  cloud  of  dust 
down  the  drive,  and  the  noise  of  altercation 
and  profanity  floated  over  the  lawns.  Two  fig- 
ures emerged  from  the  dust,  eventually,  and 
came  tearing  up  the  park.  Such  figures,  too! 
In  that  picture,  especially,  they  were  queerly 
placed.  The  hats  they  wore  were  merely  rims 
of  felt;  the  boots  had  the  pink  of  flesh  peering 
out  in  odd  places ;  the  clothes  were  shining  and 
discolored  and  ripped  and  ragged.  The  faces 
were  smeared  with  blood  and  dust. 

"It  seems  we're  in  for  it,"  said  the  yachting 
Commodore;  "your  lodgekeeper  did  his  best, 
but  they  were  too  much  for  him.    Tramps  or 


112 


LINGO  DAN 


lunatics,  I  suppose.  Can't  think  why  the  au- 
thorities don't  police  the  district  better." 

The  ladies  were  huddled  into  the  conserva- 
tory, peering  through  the  glass. 

The  fantastic  couple  was  still  making 
straight  for  the  house.  It  was  quite  impos- 
sible to  discern  anything  of  them  save  their  ex- 
treme dirt  and  raggedness.  Besides  dirt  and 
dust  and  blood  they  were  possessed  of  a  fury; 
the  people  in  the  house  could  hear  their  foam- 
ing, almost.  The  grooms,  who  had  been  called 
up,  formed  a  line  before  the  conservatory. 

One  of  the  figures  stopped  for  breath  and 
then  cried  out  a  name. 

"Mrs.  Noysse!"  he  cried,  and  the  voice 
sounded  thick  and  chokeci  with  dust  and  pain. 

"Heavens!"  said  the  hostess,  "who  is  the 
creature?"  And  she  told  the  grooms  to  keep 
the  lunatics  away. 

The  creature  who  had  cried  out  made  a  sud- 
den dash  past  one  of  the  grooms,  tore  open  a 
door  of  the  conservatory,  and  gasped  out  what 
sounded  like : 

"Edith !" 

"Tommy!''  shrieked  Miss  Carrick,  putting 
one  hand  in  front  of  her  as  if  to  warn  away  a 
ghost.    "Tommy  Darrough !" 

"Yes,  that's  it,"  said  the  figure,  "though  I 
don't  blame  you  for  not  knowing  me."  And 
he  sat  down  and  began  fanning  himself  with 


LINGO  DAN 


113 


the  doormat.  They  crowded  all  about  the  dis- 
reputable figure  and  began  to  ask  questions. 
But  he  shook  his  head  and  warded  off  with 
both  arms.  "I  want  some  whisky,"  he  said, 
"and  I  want  it  now.    Then  I'll  tell  you." 

"But,  Tommy,"  said  Miss  Carrick,  gently, 
"must  it  be  whisky  ?  Lord  Orson  told  us,  you 
know,  that  you  " 

Darrough  stared  at  her,  as  if  asking  himself 
whether  it  was  he  or  she  that  was  crazy. 

"Lord  Orson?"  he  repeated.  "What  in 
the  world  do  you  mean?" 

Miss  Carrick  turned  to  look  for  the  person 
mentioned,  that  he  might  confirm  her. 

"Where  is  Lord  Orson?"  she  asked. 

"Permit  me,"  said  a  new  voice.  It  was  that 
of  the  other  tattered  figure.  This  figure  took 
off  its  rim  of  what  had  been  a  hat,  bowed  its 
dusty  rags  almost  to  the  ground,  and  said : 
"Permit  me.  I  am  Lord  Orson."  A  ghastly 
red  line  through  the  caked  grime  on  his  face 
widened  as  he  spoke,  showing  the  lips. 

Miss  Carrick  was  peering  into  Darrough's 
face.  "It's  you,  Tommy,  I  see  that;  it's  you; 
I  know  the  voice  and  I  know  the  eyes.  But 
if  that's  Lord  Orson,  who  was  it  that  came 
in  your  dog-cart,  and  ?" 

"They  drove  away  ten  minutes  ago  by  the 
back  drive,"  said  a  groom  at  that  moment  in 
reply  to  the  hostess'  question. 


ii4 


LINGO  DAN 


Everybody  looked  at  everybody  else. 

"In  my  dog-cart?"  said  Darrough;  "in  mine, 
did  you  say?  Oh,  Lord;  oh  Lord;  don't  you 
see,  Orson;  don't  you  see?" 

But  Lord  Orson  was  calling  for  whisky-and- 
water  and  a  hot  bath.  They  bore  him  off  to 
where  he  could  get  both,  leaving  the  ladies  be- 
sieging Darrough,  who  was  rocking  with 
laughter  that  cracked  the  dirt  on  his  face  as 
an  earthquake  cracks  the  world's  crust. 

"Who  was  he?"  he  repeated.  "Lord  only 
knows !" 


CHAPTER  VII 


FROM  WHICH  IT  WOULD  APPEAR  THAT  DUCKS 
MAY  BE  PREFERABLE  TO  DUCATS 

An  old  man,  brown  and  bent,  splashing 
through  the  marshes  and  over  the  meadows, 
clumsy  rubber  boots  reaching  to  his  hips,  and 
a  gun  over  his  shoulder,  stopped  suddenly,  just 
as  the  sun  rose  like  a  copper  halo  over  the  wa- 
ters of  the  Sound. 

"Bless  my  soul!"  he  remarked,  "it's  funny 
what  will  wash  in  with  the  tide  sometimes !" 

He  stooped  and,  taking  note  that  the  two 
men  were  fast  asleep,  picked  up  the  guns  that 
lay  near  them,  fingered  them  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, put  them  down  again,  and  took  to 
scratching  his  beard.  He  considered  the  two 
figures  a  moment,  and  then  looked  vaguely  to 
the  Southward.  "Easterly  weather  before  the 
day's  over,"  he  mused,  "Low  tides,  like  as  not. 
Ha !  There  goes  a  bunch  of  red-heads,  now !" 
And  he  watched  a  flight  of  ducks  heading  for 
the  coves  further  up  the  river.  When  he 
looked  down  again,  it  was  to  find  the  taller  of 
the  two  men  awake,  and  regarding  him  with 
a  smile. 


n6 


LINGO  DAN 


"Do  you  mind  telling  me,"  said  the  tall  per- 
son, in  a  singularly  alluring  voice,  "where  in 
the  world  we  are?" 

The  little  old  man  looked  over  the  marsh, 
with  his  eyebrows  lifting.  "Good  Lord,"  he 
remarked,  to  the  marsh,  it  seemed,  "he  doesn't 
know  where  he  is !    That's  good,  that  is !" 

"A  valuable  jest,  I  make  no  doubt.  But 
scarce  a  hospitable  one.  Consider,  my  old 
man  of  the  sea,  we  are  strangers ;  is  this  frivol- 
ity of  yours  quite  meet  for  wayfaring  folk  who 
have,  in  all  the  world,  no  means  to  keep  away 
the  tricks  of  Fate,  save  these."  And  he  lev- 
eled his  gun  at  the  old  man,  with  a  rude  sign  to 
his  companion,  long  since  wakened  by  the  noise 
of  voices,  to  do  the  same.  "To  voice  again 
the  worn  refrain :  We  have  nothing  in  the 
world  but  these  weapons.  Will  you  pity  the 
poor  strangers?" 

But  the  old  man  looked  at  them  with  a  light 
of  amusement  sparkling  in  his  eyes. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "nice  guns,  too.  Damascus 
barrels,  English,  hand-made.  Nice  guns. 
They'll  give  you  ten  dollars  a  piece  for  them 
in  New  Edinbro,  anytime  you  want  to  hock 
them."  If  there  was  threat  of  personal  vio- 
lence in  the  tall  man's  speech  or  pose,  the  little 
old  hunter  was,  to  all  outward  seeming,  quite 
innocent  of  it. 

"It  were  a  pity  to  spoil  so  merry  an  ancient 
with  powder  and  shot,  eh,  Billy?    The  world 


LINGO  DAN 


117 


is  never  too  full  of  merry  men.  Shall  we  re- 
frain from  our  obvious  advantage?" 

Billy  nodded,  and  they  dropped  their  guns 
to  the  grass. 

"Might  just  as  well,"  said  the  other,  "neither 
one  of  'em's  loaded."  Whereon  he  cocked  his 
own  gun. 

"Fairly  beaten,  Billy,  fairly  beaten!"  The 
tall  man  rocked,  with  a  cackling  laughter. 
Then  he  rose  to  his  feet  with  a  ceremonial  flour- 
ish that  sat  most  fantastically  upon  his  water- 
soaked,  spotted  and  ragged  apparel.  "Sir,"  he 
went  on,  "I  take  the  honor  of  presenting  to  you 
myself,  whom  the  gods  of  chance  and  euphony 
long  since  named  Lingo  Dan,  and  my  com- 
panion in  campaigns  against  mischance,  Billy. 
We  bow  to  a  superior  soul.  We  are  outwitted, 
and  so  early  in  the  day,  too,  by  your  dear,  good 
self.  You  removed  the  shells  before  ever  we 
awoke !  A  noble  inspiration ;  I  could  not  have 
done  better  myself.  Will  you  not  inform  us 
who  it  is  so  honors  us  ?" 

"My  name's  Tim  Held." 

"Well,  Mr.  Held,  we  apologize,  I  vow  to 
you,  we  apologize  most  humbly.  Here  we 
come,  I  suppose,  trespassing  upon  your  do- 
mains, and  offering  you,  almost  at  the  outset 
of  our  acquaintance,  but  scant  civility.  But  it 
shall  be  a  lesson  to  me,  Mr.  Held,  ever  to  sus- 
pect a  superiority  of  soul  even  when  clothed  in 
khaki." 


n8 


LINGO  DAN 


"No  khaki  on  me,  Mr.  Dan.  Dead  grass 
color  I  wears,  always,  in  the  duckin'  season  o' 
year.    What's  khaki?" 

"A  synonym,  Mr.  Held,  for  your  own  col- 
ors. Dead  grass?  Much  stouter  Anglo- 
Saxon,  much  better  really.  Will  you  have  a 
little  Medford,  Mr.  Held?  It's  all  the  fates 
have  left  us.  Poor  food,  perhaps,  yet  it  holds 
warmth  and  light."  He  turned  to  Billy,  "A 
drink  for  Mr.  Held,  good  William!" 

With  much  profane  reluctance,  Billy  pulled 
a  bottle  from  his  pocket,  and  handed  it  to  Held. 
The  latter  took  it,  smelt  at  the  rim,  swept  a 
quick  look  at  the  others,  and  gulped  the  rum 
down,  with  a  fine  smacking  of  the  lips  after- 
wards. He  was  passing  the  bottle  back  again, 
but  Lingo  Dan  waved  him  to  retain  it.  "I 
will  tell  you  how  we  came  here.  Listening- 
is  oft  more  dry  than  talking.  Keep  it  to  sus- 
tain you  against  my  being  tedious.  Though, 
to  tell  the  truth,  the  thing  is  absurdly  simple. 
We  have  driven  our  carriage,  Mr.  Held — but, 
let  that  pass.  The  last  of  many  mischances 
stranded  us  upon  this  pleasant  coast,  with 
nothing  to  call  our  own,  save  these  guns,  this 
liquor  and  that  immortal  courage,  Mr.  Held, 
of  which  one  Henley  has  sung.  We  were  in 
a  small  boat;  we  came  to  shore  at  duslc;  we 
thought  to  find  a  habitable  spot,  so,  beaching 
the  boat,  we  walked  into  these  reeds  and 
marshes,  and,  to  tell  the  bitter  fact,  we  lost  our- 


LINGO  DAN 


HQ 


selves;  we  are  rudderless  in  a  wilderness;  all 
creeks  look  alike,  and  one  meadow  is  as  brown 
as  another,  one  bunch  of  cat- tails  just  the  same 
as  another.  Well,  Mr.  Held  we  prayed  to  the 
Good  God — you  should  hear  Billy  pray,  Mr. 
Held,  you  really  should! — to  send  us  salvation 
in  the  morning.  And  here  you  are,  Mr.  Held, 
here  you  are.  Thank  the  gods,  Billy,  for  an- 
swering our  prayers!" 

But  of  Billy's  ensuing  remarks  it  is  safe 
only  to  declare  that  they  had  nothing  to  do 
with  any  gods,  save  the  nethermost. 

"And  now,  Mr.  Held,  will  you  not  tell  us 
where  we  are?  How  near  to  the  railway? 
How  near  to  a  village,  and  telegrams,  and  all 
the  outer  sentries  of  civilization?" 

Held,  before  he  answered,  took  another  pull 
at  the  rum.  "Good  old  Medford,"  he  mut- 
tered into  his  beard.  Then  he  lifted  his  eyes 
to  Lingo  Dan.  "If  I  tells  you  you're  in  Frog 
Cove,  near  Pugg  Harbor,  and  ten  miles  from 
Old  Pond  Station,  what  better  off  are  you? 
I'll  tell  you  something,  Mr.  Dan,  the  man 
doesn't  live,  outside  o'  myself,  that  can  take 
you  straight  into  yonder  clump  of  cat-tails,  and 
take  you  safe  out  again.  What  have  I  shot 
ducks  over  these  marshes  twenty  years  for,  if 
I  don't  know  'em  like  a  book  now,  tell  me  that, 
will  you?"  He  shouldered  his  gun,  and 
walked  towards  the  clump  of  reeds  he  had  in- 
dicated.   "I'll  show  you  something,"  he  said, 


120 


LINGO  DAN 


trudging  ahead.  The  others  following  him, 
walked  side  by  side.  "The  rum  works,  Billy," 
whispered  Lingo  Dan,  "it  works.  A  better 
weapon  than  powder,  sometimes.  As  we 
know  to  our  sorrow." 

They  crashed  their  way  through  what 
seemed  an  impenetrable  thicket  of  brown, 
crackling  reeds.  The  cat-tails  were  at  least 
two  feet  taller  than  even  Lingo  Dan;  when 
you  looked  up  you  gazed  as  if  from  a  prison 
upon  the  vault  of  sky  overhead ;  all  else  was  a 
narrow  cage  of  brown.  In  the  distance  you 
could  hear  the  tide  beating  against  the  easterly 
wind.  Now  and  then  the  heavy  rushing  of  a 
flight  of  ducks  cut  the  air  over  their  heads. 
Presently  they  found  themselves  before  a  hut 
of  rude  planking.  So  low  was  the  roof  of  it, 
and  so  high  the  ambuscade  of  cat-tails,  that 
you  did  not  see  the  hut  until  you  almost  stepped 
upon  its  lintel.  Held  pushed  open  the  door, 
and  showed  them  the  cot,  and  the  shelf  that 
constituted  his  furnishing.  "Here,"  he  said, 
as  he  waved  them  to  a  seat  on  the  cot,  "is  where 
I  live — most  of  the  time.  What  with  this,  and 
a  good  gun,  and  a  boat — Lord  love  you,  I'm  as 
happy  as  the  run  of  folks.  Heap  more  happy 
than  some,  I'm  thinking.  I've  solved  the  great 
problem,  you  see,  of  how  little  it  takes  for  a 
man  to  live  on.  Look  at  me;  do  I  look 
starved?  No.  Well;  I  catch  fish,  and  I  dig 
clams,  and  I  shoot  ducks;  I've  got  God's  free 


LINGO  DAN 


121 


air  and  light;  in  summer  there's  the  sun  and 
the  wind  to  cool  me,  and  in  winter  there's  drift- 
wood enough  on  the  islands  here  to  keep  me 
warm  as  toast."  He  paused,  and  handed  some 
tobacco  to  his  vistors.  "Is  a  millionaire  much 
better  off?" 

Lingo  Dan  smiled  slightly.  "I  have  never 
been  a  millonaire — in  the  actual,"  he  allowed. 
"But  I  admit  that  you  are  a  very  exceptional 
person,  Mr.  Held.  You  have  solved  the  secret 
of  content  with  the  most  elemental  methods. 
You  have  triumphed  where  the  majority  is  ut- 
terly blind.  I,  upon  my  word,  I  envy  you. 
And  yet — and  yet,  do  you  never  feel  the  need 
of  money,  of  human  intercourse?" 

Held  put  the  bottle  to  his  lips  again,  and 
his  head,  at  this  swig,  went  back  for  quite  a 
long  time.  His  eyes  began  to  glisten.  "Mon- 
ey," he  said,  "what's  money?  Barrin'  rum, 
what'll  it  bring  you?  What's  the  use  of  it — 
here  ?"  And  he  swept  his  arm  in  a  circle  that 
took  in  the  entire  marsh.  "If  I  wants  a  drink 
a  rum  or  so,  all  I  has  to  do  is  drop  a  line  to  one 
of  the  shooting  gentlemen  in  town  that  knows 
me.  Then  they  comes  to  the  hotel  in  New 
Edinbro,  or  in  Old  Pond;  and  I  guide  them 
out  duck  shooting.  They  gets  the  sport  and 
the  ducks,  and  I  gets  the  sport  and  the  money. 
As  for  society — give  me  ducks,  Mr.  Dan,  give 
me  ducks.  Some  folks  spend  their  lives  study- 
in'  other  folks;  'far's  I'm  concerned,  I  finds 


122 


LINGO  DAN 


ducks  a  heap  more  interestin'.  'Ever  get  up  in 
the  grey  of  the  dawn,  when  there's  fog  on  the 
river  and  the  marshes,  and  push  your  boat 
through  the  sloughways  and  the  ditches,  and 
jump  the  ducks  as  they're  feeding?  Ever  sit 
behind  a  blind  of  reeds  for  all  the  high-tide 
hours  and  wait  for  the  wind  and  the  tide  to 
drive  the  ducks  into  your  decoys ;  see  'em  swirl 
about  and  around,  and  then  drop,  just  like  that, 
paff ,  in  front  of  your  gun  ?  Ever  sit  in  the  twi- 
light and  wait  for  the  evening  flight  of  ducks, 
your  ears  straining  for  the  whista,  whista  of 
the  wings  that  you  can't  see  till  they're  right 
over  you;  or  look  for  them  to  fly  across  the 
moonlight?  Ever  get  so  you  think  you  knew 
just  where  this  bunch  feeds,  or  that,  and  then 
lay  for  'em,  and  have  'em  fool  you?  Ever  live 
twenty  years  trying  to  circumvent  their  cun- 
ning tricks  and  be  as  eager  at  the  end  as  when 
you  were  just  beginning?  Ever  try  any  of 
those  things?  No.  I  thought  not.  Don't 
talk  to  me  of  people!  Ducks  is  a  heap  more 
exciting.  Give  me  ducks,  Mr.  Dan,  every  time ! 
Give  me  ducks !" 

The  old  man's  eyes  were  glistening  more 
and  more  brightly,  and  words  came  to  him 
with  a  rush  and  a  riot  that  was  sometimes  too 
great  for  his  lips.  As  he  took  another  pull  at 
the  bottle,  Lingo  Dan,  looked  significantly  at 
Bill.  Held  set  the  bottle  down  upon  the  table 
presently,  and  turned  to  hang  up  his  gun.  In 


LINGO  DAN 


123 


that  instant  Lingo  Dan  substituted  an  almost 
full  bottle  of  rum  for  the  nearly  empty  one 
that  had  been  set  down.  "Good  old  Med- 
ford !"  murmured  Held,  wiping  his  lips  again, 
after  another  swallow.  "Old  Medford  brings  a 
man's  ambitions  back,  seems  to  me.  I've  not 
lived  here  always,  you  know;  oh,  no,  not  al- 
ways. Time  was  when  I  had  money — and 
thought  money  was  the  only  thing  in  the  world. 
Lord,  I'm  wiser  now.  Suppose  I  envy  the 
brokers  and  the  rich  men's  sons  that  come 
down  to  Old  Pond  for  the  shooting,  and  hire 
me  to  guide  for  'em?  Envy?  Not  much! 
They're  pursuing  the  problem  I've  solved, 
that's  the  way  I  figure  it  out.  If  I  wanted 
money — good  Caesar,  it's  easy  enough  to  make 
money!  Easy  enough!  Haven't  I  had  a 
stock  broker  down  here,  right  in  this  cabin, 
drunk  as  a  lord  for  ten  days  on  end,  and  him 
playing  the  market  every  day,  through  me  go- 
in'  up  to  the  telegraph  office  for  him  with  his 
instructions,  and  him  clearing  ten  thousand 
dollars  just  like — that !  And  him  drunk  as  a 
sailor,  or  a  fiddler,  or  any  sponge  what  ever 
was!  And  do  you  think  I  envied  him  the 
money?  Me,  Tim  Held?  Bosh!  I  takes 
gentlemen  out  shooting,  and  I  has  to  be  polite 
and  let  them  wipe  my  eye  for  fear  they  hire 
another  guide  that  won't  shoot  as  straight  as 
I  do,  and  that  kind  of  politeness  kind  of  hurts, 
for  I  do  hate  to  miss  a  duck  just  because  it 


124 


LINGO  DAN 


might  make  a  gentleman  jealous — but,  mon- 
ey !"  Mr.  Held  confided  his  tremendous  scorn 
of  the  idea  to  the  bottle  beside  him. 

"Ten  thousand  dollars,  you  said?"  Lingo 
Dan's  voice  was  tense  and  his  eyes  flashed 
with  a  sudden  resolve. 

"That's  what  I  said.  Ten  thousand.  While 
you  could  say  Jack  Ro-hic-binson.  Gentlemen, 
excuse  me,  I'm  most  'xtraordinary  sleepy. 
Make  yourselves  perfectly  at  home.  Better 
stay,  better  stay;  never  find  your  way  alone. 
Find  some  pilot-bread  on  shelf.  I'm — sleepy." 
He  slid  to  the  floor,  and  his  beard  sank  upon 
his  chest,  so  that  he  presented  a  rather  pitful 
spectacle;  an  old  man,  who  had  solved  a  won- 
derful problem  and  yet  had  left  a  loophole  to 
one  enemy. 

"How  far,"  Dan  shook  the  old  man  by  the 
shoulder,  "how  far  did  you  say  it  was  to  Old 
Pond  station?" 

"Fair  tide  and  fair  wind,  you're  right  there 
now ;  tide  and  wind  against  you  it's  five  miles. 
Lemme  sleep.  No  use — your  try  in'.  Never 
find  the  river — get  lost  again.  Lemme  sleep." 
And  the  next  moment  Mr.  Held  was  asleeep. 

Rum,"  observed  Lingo  Dan,  sententiously, 
as  he  regarded  the  prostrate  figure  of  his  host, 
"affects  different  people  differently.  Some  it 
makes  taciturn,  some  loquacious.  Some  it 
turns  honest ;  others — naturally  honest,  it  mak- 
es  rogues.    I  have  given  the   subject  some 


LINGO  DAN 


125 


study,  and  some  experiment,  Billy,  in  my  time. 
In  this  case  I  should  say  that  we  had  before  us 
an  honest  old  fellow,  whom  rum  renders  lo- 
qouacious  instead  of  leaving  him,  as  he  natur- 
ally is,  taciturn;  whom  it  deprives  utterly  of 
his  usual  principles  of  right  and  wrong,  and 
whom  it  robs,  for  the  time,  of  memory.  I  have 
seen  them  so  before.  So  have  you.  You  may 
not  have  analyzed  the  matter,  Billy,  but  I  am 
sure  you  agree  with  me,  eh?" 

"Damned  waste  of  good  rum,  if  you  ask 
me  ?"  was  Billy's  growling  answer. 

"I  think  not,  Billy,  I  think  not.  It  is  merely 
part  of  the  capital  we  risk  in  a  venture  that  the 
maundering  of  this  ancient  mariner  has  sug- 
gested to  me.  It  is  very  simple.  The  man  can 
be  kept,  I  am  sure,  in  a  sort  of  trance.  With 
diplomacy  he  can  be  guided  to  our  ends.  His 
morals  may  leave  him,  but  not  his  sense  of  to- 
pography. That,  as  it  chances,  is  our  salva- 
tion. For  he  is  right,  Billy,  we  could  never  find 
our  way  to  civilization  out  of  this  place. 
We  could  be  killed,  and  eaten,  and  the  world 
would  be  no  wiser.  Well — that  makes  it  all 
the  simpler.  My  plan,  briefly,  Billy,  is  to  have 
the  old  fellow  get  one  of  his  sporting,  drinking 
stock-brokers,  come  down  for  a  bit  of  shoot- 
ing.   Eh,  Billy,  a  bit  of  shooting?" 

Billy  considered  the  other's  face  thickly. 
From  long  association  with  him  he  had  ac- 


126 


LINGO  DAN 


quired  a  certain  foggy  appreciation  of  his  tor- 
tuous introductions. 

"Murder,  d'y  mean?    And  boodle?" 

"Bah  !  You  should  know  me  better !  Noth- 
ing so  foolish,  nothing  so  primitive.  Those 
things  always  leak  out ;  I  do  not  explain ;  but  it 
is  a  way  they  have.  Even  in  this  sequestered 
spot,  I  suppose,  one  could  not  sink  a  body  so 
deep  but  what  some  interfering  tide  would 
wash  it  right  into  the  heart  of  some  fishing 
village.  I  have,  dear  heaven  knows,  no  super- 
stitions, but  I  have  noticed  that  in  these  mat- 
ters there  are  agencies  as  mysterious  as  the 
tides  themselves.  Besides.''  he  smiled  at  Billy,, 
as  if  he  were  making  love  to  him,  "there  would 
be  far  less  profit  in  that.  No;  it  is  just — just 
a  bit  of  shooting.  And  wonderfully  easy 
shooting  at  that.  As  long  as  the  rum  holds 
out.  this  old  fellow"  he  kicked  his  foot  in  the 
direction  of  Held  "is  our  absolute  tool.  All  he 
need  do  is  to  write  to  one  of  his  shooting  pat- 
rons; the  man  will  arrive,  we  will — h'm — de- 
tain him  here,  with  the  fine  shooting  and  the 
good  cheer.  And  nothing,  you  see.  Bill}-,  noth- 
ing need  interfere  with  his  usual  habits  of 
speculating  on  the  stock  exchange.  You 
wouldn't  deny  a  man  a  thing  like  that,  would 
you.  Billy?  Billy,  Billy.  Billy!  Such  shock- 
ing language!  How  you  do  veil  your  affec- 
tion for  me.  now  and  then,  with  the  profanest 
symbols!    Upon  my  word — "    He  took  Billy 


LINGO  DAN 


127 


suddenly  by  the  shoulder,  and  the  grip  cannot 
have  been  a  light  one  for  the  other  winced 
under  it,  "Billy,  sometimes  you  irritate  me! 
Don't  you  see?  We'll  make  him  speculate — 
for  us !" 

A  week  later  many  of  the  moves  that  Lingo 
Dan  had  marked  upon  his  plan  of  campaign 
hed  been  successfully  made.  Tim  Held's  men- 
tal obliquity  had  been  correctly  guaged.  It  had 
struck  the  old  man  as  rather  a  good  joke  that  he 
should  sit  down  and  write  to  Mr.  Richard  Er- 
ringham  such  a  letter  as  would  be  sure,  if  that 
well-known  metropolitan  and  fast-living  spec- 
ulator, were  not  ill  or  out  of  town,  to  bring  him 
post-hast  to  Old  Pond  station.  The  liquor 
with  which  he  was  being  skillfully  plied  kept 
him  from  a  too  great  coherency  of  reflection, 
while  it  by  no  means  prevented  him  from  in- 
diting a  scrawl  that  Mr.  Erringham  at  once 
recognized  as  characteristic  and  authentic. 
"Mr.  Erringham.  Dear  Sir :"  ran  the  letter, 
"there  is  a  good  flight  of  ducks  on.  Your  ten- 
guage  is  looking  fine.  Yours,  Tim."  That 
was  all,  but  when  he  received  it,  Mr.  Erring- 
ham, who  knew  the  writer's  laconic  habits, 
took  a  hasty  look  at  the  state  of  the  market, 
and  then  at  the  time  tables.  He  was  satisfied 
in  both  directions.  His  interests  seemed  at  a 
tide  where  he  could  handle  them  as  safely  from 
a  distance  as  from  his  office ;  his  luck  was  pro- 


128 


LINGO  DAN 


verbial  and  notorious,  and  had  withstood  both 
the  excessive  sobriety  of  others  and  his  own  in- 
temperance. There  was  a  train  which,  allow- 
ing for  time  to  drive  to  his  apartments,  and 
have  his  shooting-clothes  packed,  would  suit 
admirably.  The  train  happened  to  be  the  Lim- 
ited Courier,  and  there  were  a  number  of  men 
he  knew  in  the  buffet-car.  With  the  prospect 
of  his  partial  holiday  before  him,  he  gave  such 
free  reign  to  his  instinctive  conviviality  that 
when  the  local  running  between  the  Junction 
and  Old  Point  deposited  him  at  the  latter  sta- 
tion he  was  in  a  most  comfortable  condition 
of  artificial  happiness.  At  the  Pond  Inn, 
where  he  spent  the  night,  and  where  Tim  Held 
was  to  meet  him  on  the  following  morning, 
he  continued  his  imbibations  so  mightily  that 
when  Mr.  Held  came  for  him  there  was  little  to 
choose  between  them  for  fearful  and  wonder- 
ful burlesques  upon  supersolemn  sobriety.  The 
good  people  at  the  Inn  merely  smiled ;  they  had 
seen  the  thing  before,  with  exactly  the  same 
players  in  the  roles.  They  were  accustomed  to 
the  curious  ways  of  gentlemen  from  town,  who 
came,  sometimes,  for  a  fortnight's  shooting, 
only  to  get  disgusted  and  return  after  24  hours, 
or  for  the  week  end,  ostensibly,  yet  lingered 
in  the  marshes  for  a  month.  As  for  Lingo 
Dan,  when  Billy  protested,  in  blustering  pro- 
fanity, against  allowing  Held  to  go  alone  to 
•  bring  Mr.  Erringham  to  the  marsh,  he  ex- 


LINGO  DAN 


129 


plained  that  he  felt  no  qualms  at  all;  Held 
would  go  through  the  motions  of  his  mission 
from  sheer  use  and  habit;  walking  in  a  dream 
of  alcohol  though  he  might  be,  he  was  yet  sure 
to  walk  in  his  old,  familiar  ruts;  he  would 
descant  upon  the  shooting  to  Erringham,  lis- 
ten to  the  other's  rhapsodies  about  the  fresh 
air  with  polite  composure,  and  never  row,  in 
his  journey  down  the  river  to  the  marshes,  so 
much  as  one  superfluous  stroke. 

Certainly  there  was  nothing  in  Erringham' s 
reception  of  the  two  strangers  to  suggest  that 
he  was  anything  but  pleased.  He  was  in  a 
mood  that  proclaimed  "the  more  the  merrier" 
as  his  guiding  text.  He  would  be  the  last  to 
blame  Tim  Held  for  sharing  the  solitude  of  the 
marshes,  that  was  certain ;  besides  there  would 
be  the  more  guns  with  which  to  attack  the  wily 
enemy,  the  dusky,  the  red-head,  the  broad-bill, 
and  the  dipper  duck. 

There  had  been  a  day's  shooting  in  which  the 
webfooted  enemy  had,  as  it  chanced,  had  de- 
cidedly the  best  of  the  encounter.  The  most 
skilful  and  sober  of  men  are  not  always  suc- 
cessful in  circumventing  the  cunning  of  ducks 
in  a  region  where  the  latter  are,  after  all,  wild 
and  scarce;  when  two  of  the  guns  are  held  be- 
fore eyes  that  can  scarcely  see  the  sights,  and 
other  two  by  men  utterly  unused  to  the  flight 
and  habits  of  the  duck,  there  is  likely  to  be  but 
a  small  bag.    All  the  more  reason,  therefore, 


130 


LINGO  DAN 


for  drinking,  on  the  eve  of  that  experience,  to 
a  better  day  coming. 

When  the  morrow  came,  there  came  with  it, 
in  Erringham's  mind,  the  craving  for  his  wont- 
ed speculation.  His  stimulated  nerves  told 
him  that  he  was  infallible  this  day;  he  had 
the  curiously  certain  feeling  that  comes  to 
those  believing  themselves  possessed  of  so- 
called  second  sight. 

"Have  to  play  the  market  to-day,  Tim,"  said 
Erringham,  "Feel  it  in  my  bones.  You  row 
me  to  Old  Pond,  and  I'll  do  the  rest."  He 
tried  to  walk  towards  the  boat,  where  it  was 
moored  in  the  reeds,  but  his  legs  refused  to 
hold  him  up,  and  he  slid  onto  the  floor.  He 
laughed  aloud.  "Tim!  Oh,  Tim!  This — in- 
fernal cabin  of  yours  is — umph — on  the  bias. 
I'd  be  all  right  once  I — umph — got  in  the  boat. 
But — umph — can't  get  to  the  beastly  old  tub. 
You'll  have  to — umph — go  in  for  me,  Tim. 
Done  it  before,  you  have."  He  lurched  to  his 
feet  again,  and  clung  to  the  shelf  in  the  wall. 
"Where's  the  bottle?"  he  asked. 

Lingo  Dan  put  his  hand  on  Erringham's 
shoulder.  "Look  here,  I'll  help  you  along.  If 
you  want  the  market  played  T'll  go  in  to  Old 
Pond  with  Tim,  and  you  and  Billy  here  can  go 
take  a  crack  at  the  ducks.  We'll  be  back  before 
you  have  a  chance  to  lose  yourselves.  Or  you 
can  hide  the  boat  in  the  Cove,  put  out  the  de- 
coys on  Back  River,  and  wait  for  us.   Fact  is," 


LINGO  DAN 


here  he  lowered  his  voice  and  almost  whisper- 
ed, "Tim's  a  little,  well,  under  the  weather, 
don't  you  think?" 

"Maybe  he  is,"  said  Erringham.  "Hadn't 
noticed.  Maybe  he  is.  All  right,  we're  all 
friends.  Here's  the  message,  and  the  cipher 
signature.    So  long!" 

Lingo  Dan  gasped  silently.  He  had  not 
thought  the  thing  would  be  so  easy.  He  had 
been  prepared  for  diplomacy,  persuasion,  al- 
most for  browbeating.  And  here  the  thing  had 
almost  been  flung  at  him!  He  picked  up  the 
slip  of  paper,  and  cautiously  steered  Tim  into 
the  boat. 

The  message  read,  briefly,  that  Erringham' s 
partner  was  to  buy  Consolidated  Collieries. 
Only  Erringham  and  his  partner  knew  the 
cipher  that  signed  telegrams  passing  between 
them,  so  there  could  be  no  question  of  these 
instructions  not  being  acted  upon.  Lingo  Dan 
laughed  silently  to  himself  as  he  considered 
how  simple  it  all  was.  As  he  and  Tim  rowed 
the  boat  back  to  the  marshes  his  eyes  in  fancy 
beheld  the  quotation  on  Consolidated  Collieries 
risen,  in  the  next  24  hours,  from  the  67  at 
which  the  newspaper  just  purchased  at  Old 
Pond  showed  it,  to  something  fabulous.  All 
he  would  need  to  do  then  would  be  to  wire, 
with  the  same  cipher  signature,  for  some  huge 
remittance.  If  there  were  any  cheques  to  be 
signed — anything  at  all,  indeed,  to  be  signed, 


132 


LINGO  DAN 


— it  was  fairly  safe  to  say  that  Mr.  Erringham 
was  in  a  condition  to  cheerfully  sign  his  all 
away  without  a  murmur  or  a  regret.  Besides, 
Dan  magnanimously  told  himself,  he  would 
really  aim  at  nothing  more  than  the  profit  this 
present  transaction  was  to  bring.  Mr.  Erring- 
ham,  it  was  true,  was  in  so  amiable  a  state 
that  it  might  have  been  possible  to  get  him  to 
sign  a  cheque  over  to  him  then  and  there,  with- 
out any  trickery  at  all,  but  there  would,  Dan  re- 
flected, be  no  scent  of  danger,  of  real  intrigue 
about  that.  Such  a  scheme  was  without  the 
savor  of  science.  Besides,  Mr.  Erringham 
was,  as  he  had  admitted  in  his  cups,  none  too 
well  off  just  now ;  he  had  been  playing  on  the 
losing  side  for  months,  and  his  capital  was 
shrunk  to  a  very  small  figure  indeed ;  he  could 
suffer  little  in  the  way  of  further  losses,  and  it 
was  not  until  this  present  occasion  that  he  had 
really  felt  a  keen  sense  of  having  struck  a  win- 
ing streak.  He  had  never  touched  Consolidat- 
ed Collieries  before ;  this  speculation  in  it,  that 
he  was  directing  from  the  hidden  wilderness  of 
a  marsh,  was  his  most  desperate  fight  for  his 
financial  life.  Lingo  Dan  knew  better  than  to 
sap,  by  any  hurried  folly,  the  slender  Erring- 
ham capital.  But  once  the  great  winning  was 
made — ah,  that  was  quite  another  matter. 

But,  when  the  trip  to  Old  Pond  was  made  on 
the  following  day,  with  a  repetition  of  Erring- 
ham's  message,  to  buy  more  C.  C.  stock,  the 


LINGO  DAN 


133 


newspaper  showed  that  the  price  was  now  three 
points  lower.  Lingo  Dan  calculated  quickly. 
He  knew  that  there  was  a  definite  understand- 
ing between  Erringham  and  his  partner  as  to 
how  many  thousand  shares  were  to  be  bought 
or  sold  on  each  wired  advice;  his  reckoning 
told  him  that  he  decline  of  three  points  had  al- 
ready, if  there  was  no  recovery,  made  a  terri- 
ble inroad  upon  Erringham's  capital. 

But  Mr.  Erringham  received  the  news  very 
jovially.  He  and  Billy  were  sitting  upon  little 
square  boxes  where  the  low  tide  had  left  the 
meadow  bare;  the  reeds  hid  them  from  view, 
and  they  were  alternately  shooting  at  the  de- 
coys floating  before  them  and  increasing  their 
own  holdings  of  alcoholic  cargo.  After  each 
drink  they  declared  there  were  several  wild 
ducks  sitting  among  the  decoys;  then  they 
would  each  let  drive  with  both  barrels  and  scat- 
ter splinters  from  the  decoys  all  over  the  water. 

"Gone  down,  has  it?"  said  Mr.  Erringham. 
"Never  mind;  luck  bound  to  turn.  Look  at 
those — umph — lovely  ducks  we  shot.  Look  at 
'em;  ain't  they  got  the  loveliest  manners — 
umph — you  ever  saw.  We  shot  'em  all,  we 
did.  All  the  same,  shooting  ducks  or  playing 
market;  luck's  with  me — luck's  with  me, — me, 
— umph — Erringham.  You  know  Erringham 
— umph — luck,  don't  you. 

Nevertheless,  this  time,  the  famous  Erring- 
ham  luck  seemed  asleep.    Consolidated  Col- 


134 


LINGO  DAN 


lieries  went  steadily,  slowly,  fraction  by  frac- 
tion point  by  point,  down,  down,  until  the  day 
came  when  Lingo  Dan  reckoned,  in  his  cold- 
blooded way  that  Mr.  Erringham  was  a  bank- 
rupt. It  was  a  bitter  blow  to  him,  but  he  would 
certainly  play  the  wise  part  now;  he  would 
saddle  himself  with  no  further  responsibilities. 
There  was  no  knowing  what  might  happen. 
When  realization  came  to  the  bemuddled  Er- 
ringham there  might  be  a  tragedy,  and  ugly  ru- 
mors, and — well,  in  fine,  it  was  better  to  be 
going  before  the  crash  came. 

He  made  a  plan  or  two  accordingly. 

When  Erringham  reached  for  the  bottle 
next  morning,  it  was  empty.  He  roared  with 
rage.  His  nerves  shook.  His  voice  rose  high. 
But  there  was  not  a  drop,  not  a  drop.  Lingo 
Dan  had  seen  to  that. 

"Got  to  have  some,"  roared  Erringham. 
"Got  to  have  it.  What?  No  money!  Oh — " 
and  he  roared  out  an  oath!  He  put  his  hand 
into  his  pocket,  and  pulled  out  a  twenty-dollar 
gold  piece.  "Here,  get  me  something  to  drink, 
quick.  And  wire  the  firm  to  buy  Consolidated 
Collieries.  Mad  ?  Who  said  I  was  mad  ?  You 
do  what  I  tell  you,  d'ye  hear,  Tim  Held,  and 
you,  too,  Mr.  Dan.  What  I  want  is — whisky 
— don't  you  see  the  fix  I'm  in— don't  you  see? 
'til  I  get  it?"  Indeed,  there  was  on  him  the 
sudden  terror  of  a  house  that  has  lost  its  foun- 
dations.   His  limbs  shook  with  dread;  he  was 


LINGO  DAN 


135 


in  the  fearful  condition  of  the  drunkard  who  is 
without  the  drink  that  he  must  needs  "taper 
off"  on. 

Lingo  Dan  hauled  Billy  into  the  boat  with 
Held  and  himself..  They  shoved  off,  leaving 
Mr.  Erringham  helplessly  cursing.  When 
they  reached  the  open  meadow  by  the  river- 
shore,  all  the  intricacies  of  the  creeks  past,  Lin- 
go Dan  and  Billy  suddenly  forced  the  boat's 
nose  to  the  bank,  and  lifted  old  Held  to  the 
meadow. 

The  old  man  looked  at  the  sun  and  the  sky 
in  a  dazed  way,  and  then  smiled  maudlinly  at 
the  two  in  the  boat. 

"No  cover  here,"  he  said,  "no  cover  at -all. 
No  ducks  fool  enough  to  come  here." 

"Oh,"  said  Lingo  Dan,  "if  you  will  pardon 
my  frankness,  a  pest  on  you  and  your  ducks. 
We  have  enjoyed  your  hospitality;  but  it  be- 
comes monotonous.  We  had  intended  some 
celebration  on  the  strength  of  your  speculative 
friend's  success ;  but  his  failures  grow  dispirit- 
ing. Neither  good  old  Medford  nor  equally  an- 
cient Monongahela  can  bolster  up  one's  spirits 
against  such  a  succession  of  failures.  We  owe 
you  a  deal  in  the  way  of  information  concern- 
ing ducks,  Mr.  Held,  but  in  the  matter  of  du- 
cats we  have  been  shamefully  deceived.  You 
led  us  to  believe  that  your  stockbroker  was  an 
invariable  winner,  and  here  he  has  done  noth- 
ing but  lose  for  a  week  or  more.   For  no  other 


136 


LINGO  DAN 


reason  did  we  linger  in  your  marshy  abode.  Fie 
upon  you,  Mr.  Held,  for  your  cruel  deception. 
Was  it  any  way  to  treat  two  strangers,  two  bits 
of  human  floatsam  thrown  upon  your  mercy? 
Was  it  kind  ?   Was  it  just  ?" 

Tim  Held  did  not  understand  the  words 
very  accurately,  but  the  tone  of  voice  affected 
him,  and  the  liquor  was  potent  in  him.  He  be- 
gan to  weep. 

"Fie  on  you,  Tim  Held,  and  you  so  old! 
Your  head  is  white,  and  your  deeds  so  black! 
Oh,  fie,  Tim  Held!" 

And  they  pushed  off,  leaving  Held  sitting  on 
the  sodden  meadow,  weeping. 

Two  days  later,  in  a  city  lodging-house, 
Lingo  Dan,  reading  the  newspaper,  started, 
read  again,  and  smilingly  handed  the  sheet  to 
Billy,  his  finger  touching  a  certain  line. 

The  line  read  thus :  "Consolidated  Collieries 
Soar.  A  fifteen  point  rise."  And  in  the  para- 
graph below  was  mention  of  the  fact  that  the 
greatest  coup  made  in  this  stock  was  to  the 
credit  of  Mr.  Richard  Erringham  who  had 
been  buying  the  stock  for  ten  days  past. 

Lingo  Dan  sighed. 

"I  shouldn't  wonder,"  he  said,  "if  the  fool 
gives  old  Held  something  out  of  his  win- 
nings." He  sighed  again.  "Heigh  ho.  I  wish 
I  had  thought  more  of  ducks,  Billy,  and  not  so 
much  of  ducats." 


CHAPTER  VIII 


WHICH  DWELLS  UPON  LINGO  DAN'S  METHOD  OF 
BEAUTIFYING  THE  SUBURBS 

"Take  notice,  Bowlsy,"  said  Finnegan,  who 
was  conductor  432  in  the  company's  books. 

Bowlsy,  with  one  hand  still  on  the  trolly 
rope,  looked  over  to  where  Finnegan' s  head 
was  mysteriously  bobbing.  One  of  the  cars  of 
the  ocean  service  had  just  run  in  under  the 
shed  and  was  discharging  its  passengers.  An 
astonishingly  large  number  of  pretty  girls 
poured  out  onto  the  stone  flags  of  the  termin- 
us, followed  by  an  almost  equal  number  of 
handsome,  well-groomed  young  men.  To 
right  and  left  they  scattered,  some  making  for 
surface,  some  for  elevated  roads,  some  walking 
briskly  over  toward  the  public  buildings.  Cars 
came  grinding  and  spark-spitting  over  the 
curves,  constantly  discharging  and  taking  on 
their  human  complements.  Gongs  sounded  the 
start ;  policemen  strode  back  and  forth  amid  the 
crowd;  the  motormen  swung  their  gloved 
hands  together  against  the  cold,  and  from 
overhead  came  the  noise  of  the  Elevated. 


138 


LINGO  DAN 


"Well,"  said  Bowlsy,  with  something  of  re- 
sentment in  his  tone,  "I  don't  see  nothing 
great." 

"Yez  saw  the  ocean  car?" 

"I  did." 

"Then  did  yez  not  take  notice  that  the 
good-lookers  always  comes  in  bunches  ?  I  tell 
ye,  me  boy,  if  it  was  not  for  taking  notice  of 
human  nature,  I  would  not  be  conductor  on  a 
trolley  car." 

"Oh  ho ;  yis !  Yez  would  be  a  philosophist, 
or  the  like  of  that.  Oh,  yis !  I  doubt  the  su- 
perintendent has  no  thought  but  what  yez 
ring  up  fares  for  a  living,  Finnegan.  Will  I 
tell  him  that  yez  do  it  mostly  as  a  favor  and  to 
teach  philosophy  ?  Oh  ho,  Finnegan  !"  Bow- 
lsy blew  on  his  fingers  and  danced  a  jig  on  the 
platform  of  his  car.  He  roared  again  with 
tremendous  gusts  of  laughter.  "Oh  ho,  Fin- 
negan, the  philosophist !" 

"Bowlsy,  yez  shame  the  service.  Take  no- 
tice of  the  folks  we  gives  a  ride  to,  and  ye'll  be 
wiser  than  yez  are  now.  Take  notice,  I  tell  yez. 
As  sure  as  yez  live,  the  good  ones  comes  in 
bunches,  and  so  does  the  other  lot.  Yez  get  the 
car  onst  filling  up  with  nagurs  and  Chinee  and 
Dagoes,  and  its  nagurs  and  Chinee  and  Dag- 
oes to  the  end  of  the  trip.  But  get  a  few  likely 
looking  women  in  the  car,  and  ye'll  see  the 
swells  coming  in  as  if  yez  was  a  Fifth  avenoo 


LINGO  DAN 


139 


stage.  Have  yez  never  taken  notice  of  that, 
Bowlsy  ?" 

"I  dunno  but  what  you're  right,  Finnegan," 
said  the  other  conductor,  as  he  helped  a  wash- 
erwoman with  her  bundle  up  the  steps  of  his 
car,  "but  sure  I  never  took  thought  of  it  be- 
fore. If  yez  say  true,  then  there  is  laundries 
and  biscuit-shooters  coming  to  me  this  trip. 
Did  yez  see  the  fat  one  that  I  have  to  carry  for 
one  fare." 

"I  took  notice,"  said  Finnegan,  solemnly, 
"and  I  should  argue — " 

But  the  gong  sounded  for  Bowlsy's  car  to 
start,  and  off  it.  went,  jarring  noisily  over  the 
curves  and  spitting  sparks  in  to  the  air  over- 
head. Bowlsy  nodded  at  Finnegan,  and  the 
latter  climbed  to  his  own  platform,  waiting  his 
turn.  Thoughtfully  he  surveyed  the  interior 
of  his  car.  "I  take  notice,"  he  said  again,  as  if 
he  were  still  addressing  Bowlsy,  "that  they  al- 
ways come  in  bunches."  Then,  at  the  signal, 
he  put  his  hand  to  the  rope  and  released  the 
brake.  Presently  he  was  swinging  along  over 
the  bridge,  with  the  river  shining  below  him 
and  the  lights  on  either  shore  twinkling  like 
the  stars  of  a  nethed  world. 

Just  as  Finnegan's  car  left  the  terminus  a 
tall  man,  who  had  been  leaning  against  a  pillar 
the  while  the  two  conductors  had  been  ex- 
changing their  little  sallies,  suddenly  broke  into 
a  luminous,  lingering  smile.  "By  jove !"  he  said 


LINGO  DAN 


vigorously,  "I  believe  the  thing's  feasible.  Not 
only  feasible,  but,  as  the  hacks  on  the  news- 
papers say,  both  profitable  and  entertaining. 
Thanks  to  Finnegan!  A  great  man,  Finne- 
gan !" 

And,  still  smiling,  he  left  the  place  with 
energetic,  far-reaching  strides. 

The  very  next  day  he  went  to  the  offices  of 
the  Trolley  Company.  The  company's  list  of 
conductors  was  full,  but  his  name  could  go  on 
the  waiting  list.  When  the  tall  man  gave  his 
name,  the  machine  that  stood  behind  the  coun- 
ter smiled  faintly.  "I  see,"  said  this  machine, 
"that  you  give  your  name  in  the — what  I  may 
call  the  directory  manner."  And  he  wrote  the 
name  in  his  book,  carefully,  thus : 

"Lingo,  Dan." 

Several  months  afterward  Finnegan  and 
Bowlsy  happened  again  to  be  waiting  at  the 
bridge  terminus  together. 

"There  comes  the  beauty  car,"  said  Finne- 
gan, as  the  car  came  swinging  in  under  the 
shed.  "Mornin',  Dan !"  The  just  arrived  con- 
ductor of  what  Finnegan  had  termed  the  beau- 
ty car  nodded  and  smiled.  Finnegan  watched 
the  thirty-odd  well-dressed,  good-looking 
people  of  both  sexes  stream  out  of  Dan's  car, 
and  then  nodded  his  head  sententiously. 

"Do  yez  mind,  Bowlsy,  how  I  have  always 
said  the  good  ones  comes  in  bunches,  and  the 


LINGO  DAN 


141 


bad  ones  comes  in  bunches  ?  There's  no  proof 
needed  now.  There's  Dan's  beauty  car  to 
prove  it." 

Indeed,  the  beauty  car  was  known  all  over 
the  company's  lines.  How  it  was  done,  no- 
body knew,  but  the  fact  was  that,  regularly  as 
clockwork,  the  car  that  Dan  brought  into  town 
between  half-past  ten  and  half-past  eleven  in 
the  morning  was  as  full  of  beautiful  women 
and  handsome  men  as  a  pomegranate  is  of 
seeds.  Outward  bound  the  beauty  car  made  its 
trip  about  four  in  the  afternoon. 

The  fame  of  the  beauty  car  was  not  confin- 
ed to  the  employes  of  the  Trolley  Company.  It 
spread  all  along  the  district  through  which 
Dan's  trip  took  him.  The  results  were  gradual, 
but  sure.  The  class  of  buildings  improved  no- 
ticeably, and  the  drift  of  fashion  turned  in  the 
direction  where  good-looking  human  beings  ap- 
peared, as  all  the  stories  agreed,  to  be  so  plenti- 
ful. The  price  of  real  estate  went  up.  All 
the  little  desolate  shanties  and  their  poverty- 
stricken,  ragged  population  disappeared. 

Presently  only  fine  villas  flanked  the  tracks. 
Beauty  was  begetting  beauty.  The  suburb 
through  which  Dan's  car  passed  was  presently 
known  all  over  the  city  as  the  home  of  the  fin- 
est beauties  for  miles  around.  The  most  de- 
sirable bachelors  moved  to  the  streets  giving 
on  to  this  trolley  line.    Following  the  bache- 


I42 


LINGO  DAN 


lors  came  dowagers  with  marriageable  daugh- 
ters. 

To  see  the  beauty  car  passing  and  arriving 
was  akin  to  watching  the  observation  car  of  an 
Empire  State  Express.  Yet  there  was  no  dif- 
ference, outwardly,  between  the  beauty  car 
and  any  other  car  in  the  sendee  of  the  Trolley 
Company.    The  fare  was  the  same. 

The  difference  was  the  conductor  of  the 
beauty  car.  He  was  tall,  and  his  face  was 
strangely  refined  for  one  in  his  position.  Yet 
he  had  by  no  means  the  look  of  a  man  grudg- 
ing doing  work  beneath  his  position.  He  was 
constantly  smiling;  he  seemed  happy.  The 
more  aristocratic  villas  sprang  up  beside  the 
trolley  tracks,  the  more  constant  grew  Dan's 
smile. 

Dan  smiled,  too,  to  think  how  childishly  easy 
was  his  system  of  filling  his  car  with  good 
looks.  He  was,  after  all,  merely  acting  on 
Finnegan's  philosophy.  He  picked  up  a  pretty 
girl  or  two,  and  the  run  of  chance  was  always 
that  some  swagger  men  appeared  presently  on 
the  next  corner.  Then,  somehow  or  other,  the 
sight  of  these  well-set-up  males  always  at- 
tracted other  pretty  women.  So  it  went.  As 
for  the  ugly  ones,  the  laborers,  the  peddlers, 
the  washerwomen — the  great  unwashed,  in 
fact — why,  he  simply  never  stopped  for  them! 
Dan  often  laughed  to  himself  to  think  how- 
simple  it  all  was.    Two  vigorous  pulls  at  the 


LINGO  DAN 


H3 


bell,  and  his  car  went  bravely  past  the  cursing 
section-men  or  the  jabbering  Chinamen,  and 
never  stopped  at  all  in  its  disdainful  career  un- 
til it  reached  a  corner  where  some  pretty  wom- 
en or  good-looking  men  stood.  Oh,  that  was 
too  easy,  too  easy!  But  that,  after  all,  was 
mere  entertainment.  The  profit  was  another 
matter.  Yet  even  that  was  entertaining.  Dan 
chuckled  as  he  thought  of  it  all. 

On  one  rare  night,  when  he  got  a  holiday 
that  coincided  with  his  motorman's  night  off, 
the  two  sat  together  in  a  little  room  which 
ooked  over  the  East  River.  Dan  held  a  sheet 
of  paper  before  him,  and,  in  the  intervals  of  his 
meditation,  offered  commentaries. 

"Billy,"  he  said,  "the  thing  becomes  monoto- 
nous. It  is  too  facile,  far  too  facile.  More- 
over, it  is  legitimate  business;  I  do  not  over- 
like the  too  legitimate.  A  little  touch  of  rog- 
uery adds  charm,  somehow,  eh,  Billy?  And 
yet  the  thing  is  certainly  romantic.  Billy,  if 
this  present  system  of  mine  be  not  genius,  will 
you  be  so  considerate  as  to  define  the  article 
for  me?  You  can't?  I  thought  not.  Think 
of  what  it  is  I  am  doing.  I  am,  to  all  intents 
and  purposes,  making  a  fashionable  quarter  out 
of  what  used  to  be  a  slum.  I  have  made  the 
beauty  car  one  of  the  sights  of  the  town.  And, 
incidentally — "  he  patted  the  paper  before  him 
—  "I  have  added  to  our  little,  little  " 

"Wad!"  said  Billy,  gruffly. 


i44 


LINGO  DAN 


"Thank  you!  I  loathe  the  word,  but  it 
comes  pat  at  times.  Yes,  it  is  a  noble  system, 
truly.  Thanks,  first  to  Finnegan,  and  then, 
Billy,  to  you.  Were  it  not  that  you  aided  me 
in  disdaining  to  stop  the  beauty  car  for  the 
unbeautiful  my  method  were  impracticable. 
But  as  it  is  " 

He  paused  and  looked  wistfully  out  of  the 
window.  "I  assure  you,  Billy,  sometimes  the 
tameness  of  the  thing  palls  on  me."  He  pen- 
ciled for  a  moment  on  the  paper  before  him. 
"Why  did  the  plan  never  strike  anyone  else? 
Anyone  could  do  it — anyone.  I  crowd  my  car 
with  beautiful  women,  and  then  I  pack  my  back 
platform  with  smart  men,  and  then — oh,  the 
rest  is  child's  play.  I  single  out  a  man,  I  lead 
him  on  to  talk.  After  a  day  or  so  he  begins 
to  ask  me  if  I  know  who  such  and  such  a  girl 
is.  I  find  out  who  he  is.  I  arrange  meetings 
and  accidents  and  appointements.  Gradually 
I  know  who  is  who  for  miles  around.  My  car 
becomes  a  marriage  bureau,  and  I — Billy — I 
am  the  director." 

He  got  up  and  paced  the  floor  in  nervous 
energy. 

"And  the  commissions,  Billy,  are  by  no 
means  to  be  despised.  The  men  pay  well — oh, 
yes;  they  pay  well.  They  know  I  could  take 
the  car  past  their  noses  any  day  I  wanted  to. 
And  each  one  of  them  thinks  he  is  the  only 
one  that  I — h'm! — grant  my  favors  to.  Of 


LINGO  DAN 


145 


course,  I  never  tax  the  girls.  Chivalry  forbids. 
Although  I  will  admit  that  in  the  case  of  a  fat 
dowager  or  so,  with  designs  upon  some  hand- 
some youth,  I  have  relaxed  my  rule  on  this 
score." 

There  was  silence  for  a  time,  and  then  Dan 
began  again. 

"I  have  a  premonition,  Billy,  that  the  system 
is  about  drained  dry.  That  is  why  I  give  the 
matter  so  much  thought  to-night.  Notice  these 
figures;  not  bad  for  a  year,  eh?  We  might 
have  run  more  risk  and  done  much  worse,  eh? 
If  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst,  we  can — h'm! 
— see  a  little  life  with  that,  eh?  The  fact  is, 
Billy,  I  see  the  end  coming.  There  is  a  widow 
— think  of  it,  Billy,  a  widow — haunting  me. 
She  is  ruining  the  complexion  of  the  beauty- 
car.  For  weeks  I  avoided  her.  You  may  re- 
member, Billy,  the  woman  who  was  wont  to 
stand  at  the  corner  of  the  Park  Slope  Drive, 
and  past  whom  I  always  signaled  you  to  fly 
with  such  especial  speed.  A  little  woman, 
with  black,  shiny  eyes,  and  a  most  dogged  chin. 
I  knew  her  at  once  for  a  woman  of  character ; 
when  the  car  sailed  past  her,  she  used  merely 
to  smile  thinly  and  look  at  me.  Now  she  has 
taken  to  walking  to  the  starting  point  and  get- 
ting into  the  car  before  it  starts.  And  she 
watches  me — oh,  Lord,  Billy,  how  she  watches 
me!    I  have  not  arranged  a  lovers'  meeting 


146 


LINGO  DAN 


these  ten  days  past,  but  I  have  felt  that  wom- 
an's eyes  fixed  on  me." 

"Stuck  on  you,  I  guess."  Billy  grunted  his 
suspicion. 

"Perhaps.  And  all  the  worse.  If  she  drives 
me  to  bay,  Billy,  it  simply  means  an  end — an 
end  to  the  beauty-car." 

"He  puffed  at  his  pipe,  folded  up  some  pa- 
pers and  went  on.  "We  have  enough  to  try 
other  climes  with.  We  leave,  moreover,  with 
the  consciousness  of  benefits  bestowed.  I  have 
made  various  young  people  happy.  I  have 
made  smooth  the  trolley  track  of  love,  and  I 
have  invented  and  perfected  the  Beauty  Car." 
He  spoke  the  term  in  capitals.  "When  I  go, 
its  secret  goes  with  me.  I  might,  of  course, 
were  I  some  mere  mechanical  mercenary  spirit, 
go  sell  the  story  to  the  newspapers  the  moment 
that  my  widow  threatened  unpleasantness. 
For,  of  course,  I  know  what  will  happen.  She 
will  seek  to  coerce  me  with  threats  of  taking 
her  story  to  the  company.  But  if  I  merely  es- 
cape, if  she  finds  I  am  no  longer  with  the  com- 
pany, she  has  not  wit  enough  to  tell  the  tale. 
I  know  her  well  enough  for  that.  And  so  the 
secret  stays  with  us.  We  have  enough — for 
present  cakes  and  ale,  at  least — and  future  gain 
shall  never  tempt  me  to  cut  off  my  left  hand 
that  my  right  may  take  to  penny-a-lining." 

Then  they  composed  themselves  to  slumber. 
******** 


LINGO  DAN 


I47 


A  few  weeks  afterward  Finnegan  and 
Bowlsy  were  doing  a  warmth-producing  break- 
down, side  by  side,  in  the  company's  barns. 

"  'Twas  queer  about  the  beauty  car,"  said 
Finnegan. 

"Yes,  that  it  was,"  said  Bowlsy. 

"Comes  in  all  gay  and  gorgeous,  one  day, 
and  the  next  'tis  filled  with  Irish  biddies  and 
garlic-eating  Dagoes,  and  stableboys  with 
smell  enough  of  horses  to  make  you  think  the 
car  was  the  Garden  Horse  Show  week.  And 
the  motorman  and  Dan  both  absent  and  re- 
signed. 

"  'Tis  mighty  strange !" 

"And  yet  they  say  they  went  out,  both  of 
them,  with  as  clean  a  sheet  as  ever  the  com- 
pany saw.  All  straight  and  trim  and  clean 
and  square.    I  do  not  understand." 

"A  clever  man,  was  Dan." 

"Yes;  that  he  was.  And,  did  I  tell  yez? 
Yesterday  I  gets  a  letter.  I  takes  no  notice 
of  the  postmark.  There's  nothing  in  it  but  a 
twenty-dollar  bill,  and  words  like  this :  'A 
Christmas  Present,  to  Finnegan,  Philosopher, 
from  Dan,  Practician.'  Now,  what  the  jim- 
ny's  'practician,'  Bowlsy?" 

"I  do  not  know,"  said  Bowlsy.  "Was  the 
bill  good?" 


148 


LINGO  DAN 


"Take  notice,"  said  Finnegan,  and  handed 
up  a  twenty-dollar  certificate. 

"  'Tis  good,"  said  Bowlsy. 

"Take  notice,"  said  Finnegan,  stuffing  the 
bill  into  his  pocket  again,  "it  is  the  profits  of 
philosophy." 


CHAPTER  IX 


CONCERNING  MURDER  AND  SOME  SPECULATION 
IN  COMEDY 

"Listen,  Billy.  Listen!" 

From  the  adjoining  room,  a  moment  before, 
there  had  come  the  noise  of  some  one  entering, 
then  an  indefinite  sound  of  a  fall  or  a  blow, 
and  now  a  something  that  was  half  moaning, 
half  laughing. 

Still  warning  Billy  to  silence,  Lingo  Dan 
stepped  softly  to  the  partition.  "I  knew,"  he 
whispered,  "that  this  pleasant  device  of  mine 
would  serve  us  some  day."  He  shifted  a  small 
disk  of  wood,  and  applied  one  eye  to  the  hole 
in  the  wall. 

Suddenly  he  stepped  back,  gripped  Billy's 
arm,  and  made  for  the  door.  "Quietly,  Billy, 
and  pin  his  arms,"  he  urged  as  they  stepped 
into  the  other  room. 

There  was  a  second's  scuffle,  and  then  a  pale, 
starved-looking  creature  sat  helplessly  on  Bil- 
ly's lap.  On  the  table  in  the  gaunt  room  was 
a  lighted  candle  and  a  mass  of  manuscript  tied 
with  black  ribbon.  The  first  sheet  had  been 
torn  off*  and  was  half  charred.     Lingo  Dan 


LINGO  DAN 


was  tapping  the  blackened  sheet  of  paper  on 
the  table. 

"To  think."  said  Lingo  Dan.  as  if  he  were 
addressing  the  room  at  large,  "that  we  were 
next  door  to  a  murderer ! 1 1 

The  man  in  Billy's  grasp  started  weakly.  "A 
murderer?"  he  echoed  querulously.  "A  mur- 
derer?" 

"Why,  yes.  a  murderer.  Some  murder  bod- 
ies and  some — souls.  What's  this,  if  not  your 
soul?"    Lingo  Dan  lifted  up  the  manuscript. 

The  other  tried  to  laugh.  It  was  a  some- 
thing uncannily  like  a  sob.  "I  take  it."  he 
said,  "that  you  are  more  in  practice  as  to  bod- 
ies. At  any  rate,  this  fellow's  hands  hurt 
damnably." 

"You  may  let  him  go,  Billy."  Lingo  Dan. 
the  manuscript  in  his  pocket,  went  to  the  door 
and  closed  it  tightly. 

"And  now  sir — " 

"Oh.  cut  it  short."  interrupted  the  owner  of 
the  room.  "And  now.  you  are  going  to  say.  I 
suppose,  in  some  horribly  stale  phrase  or  other, 
my  money  or  my  life!  You  can  have  both,  for 
they  are  neither  of  them  worth  a  tinker's  damn. 
The  only  thing  in  the  world  that  I  once  valued 
is  in  your  pocket.  You  are  welcome  to  it.  For 
heaven's  sake,  take  it  and  go.  Perhaps  the 
ragmakers  will  buy  it :  it  might  make  paper 
enough,  when  my  soul  has  been  boiled  out  of 
it,  for  some  one  to  write  my  obituary  on.  Y\  hy 


LINGO  DAN 


don't  you  go?  Was  it  any  business  of  yours 
if  I  burnt  the  thing?" 

"You  will  excuse  this  intrusion,  my  good 
sir,  when  I  have  explained.  W e  have  watched 
you  for  weeks.  We  have  seen  you — never 
mind  how — burning  the  midnight  candle, 
fighting  the  bitter  fight  of  creation,  and  we 
have  become  interested.  We  knew  when  the 
work  was  done,  and  we  have  wondered,  since 
then,  how  soon  you  would  come  home  glowing 
with  victory.  Just  now  we  saw  you  accepting 
defeat  like  a  coward,  and  then — attempting 
murder."  He  tapped  the  manuscript  signifi- 
cantly. 

"You  have  a  turn  for  phrases.  Are  you  a 
writer,  too?" 

"I  ?  Qh,  my  soul — Billy,  he  insults  us !  Are 
you  a  writer,  Billy?" 

Billy's  answer  was  a  mere  inarticulate  grunt. 

"Perhaps,"  the  writer  went  on  in  his  weary 
voice,  "  you  are  burglars.  You  certainly  look 
it.  I  can  easily  imagine  disappointed  authors 
taking  to  the  most  heartless  crimes.  Still  I 
fail  to  see  where  I  am  to  profit  you  much."  He 
looked  grimly  about  the  room.  "You  note  the 
splendor  of  these  furnishings.  Such  as  it  is,  it 
is  unpaid  for.  If  you  decide  to  do  away  with 
me — would  you  mind  paying  the  rent?  Per- 
haps you  are  murderers?  But  there  is  no  in- 
surance on  my  life.  And  I  have  no  interesting 
disease  that  might  make  my  carcass  valuable  to 


152 


LINGO  DAN 


a  hospital.  Such  as  I  have  is  a  dreadfully 
vulgar  ailment."  He  spat  as  he  spoke  and 
some  faint  fleck  of  blood  showed  on  his  lips. 
"You  see,  a  most  prosaic  case."  He  walked 
up  and  down  the  room  a  couple  of  times  and 
then  summoned  up  some  show  of  fierceness. 
"Why  don't  you  go?"  he  said.  "Do  you  en- 
joy gloating?  Are  you  realists?  Is  the  suf- 
fering of  others  a  delight  to  you?  Is — "  A 
gust  of  coughing  came  over  him,  and  he  fell 
to  a  chair  with  his  breast  heaving  between  his 
close  shoulders  and  his  hands  gripping  the 
woodwork.  His  control  went  from  him  as  the 
coughing  loosed  the  tension  of  his  nerves,  and 
he  put  his  head  down  suddenly  and  began  to 
moan. 

"My  play,"  he  moaned,  "my  beautiful  play !" 

And  then  for  a  few  moments  it  was  still  in 
the  room  save  for  the  sound  of  a  man  wheez- 
ing in  bitter  pain. 

"A  play,  you  said?  A  play?"  Lingo  Dan 
had  come  over  to  where  the  man  sat,  and  had 
put  his  hand  upon  his  shoulder.  "Why,  then, 
you  mustn't  lose  all  heart!  Be  a  man,  be  a 
man.  Listen :  You  talked  of  murder  and  of 
burglary  ;  well,  we  are  all  that,  Billy  and  I  ; 
but,  mark  you,  something  more,  we  are,  before 
all  else,  gamblers.  You  want  your  play  pro- 
duced, and  all  the  managers  in  town  refuse  to 
stake  themselves  upon  it,  is  that  not  true? 
Well,  what  if  Billy  and  I  should  choose  to 


LINGO  DAN 


153 


speculate  and  take  and  put  it  on  and  stand  or 
fall,  with  you  ?" 

The  playwright  frowned  and  smiled  and 
frowned  again. 

"A  fantastic  jest,"  he  said,  "one  does  not 
produce  plays  on  wind  and  dreams." 

"Most  true.  But,  can  you  eat  mere  wind 
and  dreams?  Again  most  true;  you  cannot. 
If  you  will  sup  with  us,  in  an  hour  or  two — on 
real  food  and  real  drink — perhaps  you  will  be- 
lieve me  better.  And,  meanwhile,  may  I  read 
the  play?" 

"You  are  quite  mad."  The  playwright 
laughed.  "All  the  rest  of  the  world  has  been 
most  sane,  it  has  refused  even  to  read  the  play. 
If  I  am  to  dine  with  you  I  might  wish  that 
you  postponed  your  reading  until  the  meal  was 
over.  I  hate  to  dine  with  a  man  whose  humor 
has  been  spoiled.  But  have  it  your  own  way; 
the  play's  in  your  pocket ;  put  it  into  your  head 
if  you  want  to.  All  I  want's  food  in  my  stom- 
ach." 

"But  you  must  promise,"  said  Lingo  Dan, 
with  his  hand  on  the  door,  "that  there  shall  be 
no  more  murder  between  this  and  dinner.  No 
soul-murder,  no  body-murder." 

"Oh,  said  the  playwright,  reaching  for  a  pair 
of  scissors,  "I  shall  employ  the  interval  in  noth- 
ing but  dressing  for  dinner."  And  he  began 
to  trim  the  ragged  fringes  from  his  cuffs. 


154 


LINGO  DAN 


When  they  were  again  in  their  own  room 
Lingo  Dan  picked  up  a  scrap  of  paper  that  lay 
on  the  table.  "Do  you  remember,"  he  said, 
"what  we  were  discussing  before  that  mercur- 
ial person  next  door  gained  my  attention?" 

"Sure  thing,"  said  Billy,  "we  was  figuring 
up  what  to  do  wid  the  boodle.' 

"Exactly.  It  is  the  greatest  haul  we  have 
ever  made.  Think  of  it,  Billy,  twenty  thou- 
sand dollars !  As  we  said  before,  it  is  enough 
to  retire  on.  We  could  afford  respectability. 
Let  me  think,  what  was  it  you  said  you  would 
prefer ?" 

"Running  a  liquor-store." 

"To  be  sure.  That  was  your  ideal.  What 
wras  mine  again?  Oh,  yes;  a  cottage  in  the 
country,  with  vines  and  roses,  and  good  books, 
and  some  one  to  play  the  violin  for  me  now 
and  then,  and  a  good  brand  of  tobacco  to  color 
the  house  as  one  colors  a  meerschaum.  Or, 
again,  you  may  remember,  we  had  discussed 
the  question  of  traveling  far  over  seas,  of  de- 
voting our  lives  to  little  philanthropies,  of  go- 
ing, perhaps,  to  England,  assuming  decent  if 
fictitious  names,  and  passing  to  the  next  world 
as  sober,  beloved  vestrymen.  It  is  easy  to  be 
respectable  on  twenty  thousand  dollars. 
Against  all  this,  however,  you  will  remember, 
Billy,  that  we  had  to  consider  the  killing  quiet 
of  the  thing.     Do  you  think  we  can  stand 


LINGO  DAN 


155 


quiet?  That  was  about  the  point  we  had 
reached  when — interrupted.  -My  alternative 
was  speculation.  Did  I  understand  you  to  say, 
Billy,  that  if  I  decided  on  speculation  you 
would  lose  or  win  with  me  ?" 
Billy  grunted  a  "Yes." 

"The  man,"  continued  Lingo  Dan,  "has  but 
a  matter  of  months  to  live.  Even  you,  Billy, 
with  your  callousness,  could  see  that.  He  is  a 
clever  man;  something  tells  me  that.  If  his 
play  were  produced  his  light  would  go  out 
smilingly."  He  sighed  a  little.  "Billy,  when 
I  was  young — pardon  me  if  I  talk  of  ancient 
history! — I  had  ambitions.  I  know  what  it 
means  when  the  frost  touches  them.  The  frost 
is  reaching  for  the  one  thing  in  this  man's  life 
that  he  has  thought  worth  while.  Suppose  we 
speculate  and  keep  the  frost  away?  What  do 
you  say?  We  might,  you  know,  Billy  we 
might  make  a  hundred  thousand.  There  may 
be  a  fortune  in  it  for  all  three  of  us.  To  say 
nothing  of  keeping  the  frost  from  that  poor 
fellow's  final  days.    Do  you  follow  me,  Billy?" 

"You  mean,  if  de  play  wins,  we'se  all  on  de 
sunny  side,  and  if  it's  a  frost  it's  a  cold  day 
for  us." 

"Precisely,  Billy.  A  most  accurate  sum- 
ming up.  And  now,  Billy,  I  shall  read  the 
play." 


156 


LINGO  DAN 


A  week  later  Lingo  Dan  came  into  the  room 
where  Billy  sat.  "It  is  settled,"  he  said,  "we 
are  embarked  as  impressarios.  Our  friend  was 
right,  Billy,  there  was  not  a  manager  in  town 
would  take  the  play.  They  are  afraid  of 
it.  It  is  is  a  satirical  comedy,  and  most  of  the 
satire  strikes  at  the  audience.  It  is  brilliant, 
it  is  erratic,  it  is  not  conventional.  The  man- 
agers don't  understand  it ;  what  they  don't  un- 
derstand they  fear.  Our  friend — do  you  re- 
member, Billy,  that  his  name  is  Jermyon,  and 
that  you  must  stop  calling  him  'the  consump- 
tive guy' — has  written  a  play  so  good  that  it 
cannot  possibly  succeed.  And  yet,"  as  he  saw 
an  oath  coming  to  Billy's  lips,  "there  is  just 
the  off  chance  that  the  public  may  bite  at  a  bait 
it  can't  see  through.  We  may  make  that  for- 
tune. Who  knows?  And  think  of  the  fever 
of  speculation,  Billy.  For  we  are  in  the  game 
now.  Since  nobody  would  take  it  as  a  risk,  I 
have  guaranteed  the  risk.  It  is  to  be  put  on  at 
Weekman's  Theatre.  Presently  you  will  see 
the  public  prints  announcing  a  new  comedy, 
'Fiornella,'  by  a  new  author.  You  will  read 
weird  tales  of  Jermyon's  ways  of  life;  his  ec- 
centric pretense  of  poverty,  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing.  We  pay  for  that  publicity,  Billy,  you 
and  I ;  those  are  part  of  the  stakes  in  this  gam- 
ble of  ours.  We  pay,  in  fact,  for  everything. 
We  pay  for  the  theatre,  the  production,  the 
costumes,    the    advertisements  —  everything. 


LINGO  DAN 


157 


But,  bless  you,  the  public  doesn't  know  that. 
It  thinks  Manager  Weekman  has  really  been 
clever  enough  to  find  a  brilliant  comedy  on  his 
own  account,  and  risk  his  capital  on  the  ven- 
ture. Ah,  my  good  Billy,  one  can  do  almost 
anything  with  money.  One  can  put  a  play  onto 
the  stage  and  afterward,  if  necessary,"  he 
stopped  and  smiled  to  himself  as  if  at  a  tender 
thought,  "one  can  even  buy  the  semblance  of 
prosperity." 

Billy  went  on  smoking  and  looking  out  of 
the  window. 

"I  wonder,  Billy,"  Dan  went  on  presently, 
"if  he  will  live  to  see  the  play.  Has  he  been 
coughing  today?" 

"To  beat  the  band,"  was  Billy's  affirmative. 

"Poor  fellow.  Well,  it  of  tens  happens  so. 
He  has  put  himself  too  much  into  that  play; 
some  of  his  body  and  some  of  his  soul  is  there. 
vVHow  shall  a  man's  frame  be  strong  when  he 
has  spent  so  much  of  himself?  The  way  to 
success  does  not  lie  there,  nowadays ;  the  thing 
to  do  is  to  husband  your  little  grain  or  two 
of  talent,  and  sow  it  on  ground  prepared  by 
flattery  and  tilled  in  sycophancy,  water  it  with 
the  mediocrity  that  will  be  understood  by  the 
vulgarians,  and  give  it  the  sunshine  of  your 
toadyism  to  the  conventions.  That  is  the  way 
to  succeed  in  art,  and  in  life.  I'm  sure  you- 
agree  with  me,  Billy?  Eh?  Ah,  yes;  I  see; 
the  excess  vigor  of  your  profanity  proves  that 


158 


LINGO  DAN 


you  hold  my  views  exactly.  Were  ever  two 
people  so  alike  in  points  of  view  as  we,  Billy?" 

It  was  some  ten  days  after  the  first  night 
of  "Fiornella,"  but  the  memory  of  that  occa- 
sion was  still  vivid. 

As  the  curtain  went  down  upon  the  closing 
scene  a  sudden  tumult  of  applause  went  surg- 
ing through  the  theatre.  Men  looked  at  each 
other  and  smiled  and  flushed,  as  they  beat  their 
hands  together,  and  only  the  women  stood  in 
wondering  amaze.  For  the  women  had  been 
sitting  for  two  hours  in  utter  daze ;  to  them  the 
brilliant  humor  on  the  stage  before  them  was 
all  a  lurid  tangle  of  absurdities.  But  the  men 
applauded  fiercely,  and  the  darkest  corners 
rang  with  the  cries  for  "Author !" 

They  had  brought  him  on  in  an  invalid's 
chair,  and  then,  for  the  first  time,  a  sudden 
sympathy  had  come  to  even  the  women's  eyes, 
and  the  smiles  and  flushings  of  the  men  had 
given  way  to  a  great  surge  of  genuine  emo- 
tion. As  the  chair  was  wheeled  to  the  centre 
of  the  stage,  and  the  jaded  first-nighters  saw 
the  white  figure  of  the  slender  creature  who 
had  wrought  so  strong  a  comedy  that  they 
could  not  understand  it,  old  men  began  to 
search  their  memories  for  an  equally  affecting 
sight.  When  Jermyon  put  up  his  hand  at  last 
you  could  have  heard  the  swinging  of  a  wom- 
an's fan. 


LINGO  DAN 


159 


"I  thank  you,"  he  said,  simply,  "This  is  what 
I  have  lived  for." 

And  then  the  theatre  had  been  emptied  of  its 
crowd,  with  much  talking,  and  whispering,  and 
laughter.  And  all  the  critics  had  smiled  at 
each  other  in  a  furtively  cruel  way,  and  the 
men  had  looked  at  their  wrecked  gloves  with 
a  smile  as  if  they  had  something  in  mind  that 
was  atonement  for  all  the  torn  gloves  of  a  year. 

That  night,  very  late,  there  had  been  a  sup- 
per in  Jermyon's  room,  and  he  had  been  a  very 
fountain  of  laughter  and  brightness,  and  he 
had  asked  Lingo  Dan  again  and  again  how  he 
had  ever  managed  to  persuade  Weekman  to 
take  the  piece,  and  how  he  was  content,  now, 
to  die. 

And  Lingo  Dan  had  talked  much  fantastic 
nonsense  about  plays  and  about  the  public,  and 
trodden  frequently  on  Billy's  foot,  because 
Billy  was  drinking  too  much  champagne  and 
occasionally  making  remarks  that  Jermyon  did 
not  understand. 

And  since  then  there  had  been  eulogistic  no- 
tices cut  from  the  papers  and  brought  to  Jer- 
myon day  by  day.  The  excitement  of  that 
night  had  reacted,  and  he  was  sinking  hourly 
nearer  to  the  end.  Yet  if  his  body  waned  his 
soul  glowed  as  it  never  had  before.  He  was 
all  dreams  for  "Fiornella;"  he  thought  of  it 
bringing  his  name  to  immortality;  he  was  full 
of  wondering  optimism,  as  he  scanned  the  dajly 


i6o 


LINGO  DAN 


box-office  receipts — wondering  at  the  public's 
being  so  much  more  intelligent  than  he  had 
supposed. 

And  now  a  doctor  had  just  left  his  room  and 
was  talking,  in  the  adjoining  chamber,  to 
Lingo  Dan. 

"Another  hour  or  so  is  all."  The  doctor  put 
on  his  hat  and  went  out. 

Lingo  Dan  turned  to  Billy.  "It  seems  cruel, 
Billy,  but  I  am  glad  our  little  mummery  is  soon 
too  end.  My  nerves  are  failing  under  the 
strain  of  so  much  forgery  and  so  much  men- 
dacity. And  yet,  think  what  we  have  done, 
Billy.  We  have  given  a  beautiful  imitation  of 
a  successful  play!  Has  it  not  been  a  delight- 
ful speculation?  Think  what  we  have  learned 
about  the  purchasing  power  of  money !  How 
easy  it  is  to  ape  success !  To  stimulate  the  ap- 
plause of  a  first-night  is  a  bagatelle.  To  bias 
the  critics  is  a  harder  matter.  But,  it  can  be 
done.  Not  grossly,  stupidly,  Billy,  by  mere 
money  in  hand,  or  mere  dining  and  wining. 
Oh,  no.  Today's  finesse  is  finer  in  these  little 
things.  When  I  wanted  a  critic  to  praise 
'Fiornella'  I  bought  one  of  that  critic's  plays 
first,  or  promised  to  produce  it;  they  all  have 
plays  somewhere  in  some  shamefaced  hole. 
Yes,  Billy,  you  can  do  all  those  things — but 
one  thing  you  cannot  do,  not  even  with  money : 
you  cannot  make  the  paying  public,  come  to 
your  play  if  they  refuse  to  like  it,     J  have 


LINGO  DAN  l6l 

forged  the  box-ofr]ce  statement  for  Jermyon 
every  day,  and  he  thinks  of  nothing  but  full 
houses  every  night ;  but,  Billy,  you  and  I  know 
that  if  we  had  not  given  tickets  away  as  in- 
dustriously as  a  new  paper  gives  away  sample 
copies  the  performers  in  'Fiornella'  would  have 
played  to  the  orchestra.  I  have  deluged  the 
newspapers  with  the  most  startling  stories  that 
even  a  press  agent  ever  achieved  in  this  town: 
but — we  lose,  Billy,  just  the  same,  we  lose. 

"We  have  chosen  to  gamble,  Billy,  and  we 
have  lost.  To  your  little  rumshop,  and  my 
little  cottage,  we  have  preferred  the  hazards  of 
speculative  promotion.    And — we  lose,  we — " 

There  was  a  faint  cry  from  the  next  room, 
and  the  two  went  in  silently.  Jermyon  was 
gasping  and  struggling  for  breath.  He  beck- 
oned to  Lingo  Dan. 

"Your  hand,"  he  whispered. 

"Cheer  up,  old  man,"  said  Dan,  "cheer  up. 
This  will  pass." 

"No;  this  is  the  curtain.  But  I  don't  care. 
I  die;  but  'Fiornella'  will  go  on.  Won't  it, 
Dan;  go  on,  and  make  you  rich?  I  make  you 
heir.  The  taste  of  its  success  is  sweet  enough 
for  me;  death  can't  take  that  away."  He  lay 
still  for  a  minute  or  so,  and  then  he  spoke 
again,  "You're  not  sorry  you  speculated, 
Dan?" 

"Sorry,  when  I  see  your  smile,  and  when 
I  count  the  daily  profit — " 


l62 


LINGO  DAN 


"And  you're  not  sorry,  Billy?" 
"Sure,  no." 

"You  kept  me  from  murder  once,  Dan.  And 
now  you've  given  back  my  soul  and  introduced 
me  to  Happiness,  and  what  have  I  done  for 
you?  I  wish  I  could  do  something  before  I 
go.  The  money's  nothing.  You're  welcome 
to  that,  but  I  don't  believe  you  care.  All  I 
can  do  is  say  God  bless — " 

There  was  a  choking  and  a  shivering,  and 
the  eyes  stared  ghastly  in  their  sockets,  and 
then  the  author  of  "Fiornella"  lay  dead. 

It  grew  dusk  and  still  the  men  by  the  bed- 
side never  stirred.  Then,  suddenly,  Lingo 
Dan  got  up  and  turned  his  pockets  inside  out. 

"Behold  the  fortune  'Fiornella'  made,"  he 
laughed. 

"All  gone?"  asked  Billy. 

"Every  cent.  We  stand  today  just  where 
we  did — before  we  foolishly  thought  of  retir- 
ing from  our  activities.  We  have  gambled  and 
we  have  lost.    And  yet,  perhaps,  we  won." 

"Won?  How?"  There  was  vast  disgust 
in  Billy's  tone. 

Lingo  Dan  took  Billy  by  the  arm,  and  lit 
the  candle  by  the  dead  man's  bed. 

"He  almost  blessed  me,  Billy." 


CHAPTER  X 


IN   WHICH   THERE  IS  A  GLIMPSE  OF  ARCADY 

Against  the  roar  of  traffic  over  the  crowded 
granite  the  man's  words  were  impotent.  You 
could  see  his  lips  move ;  the  swing  of  his  right 
arm  waved  monotonously  in  the  memory,  per- 
haps ;  for  the  rest,  his  was  but  a  solitary  figure 
in  the  street-mass,  unheeded,  unimportant. 

If  you  stood  still  and  listened,  you  could 
catch  the  few  words  he  drawled  out  now  and 
again.  "Three  pairs  for  a  nickel;  5  cents  for 
three  pairs."  And  the  black  leather  strips  pen- 
dant over  his  arm  emphasized  his  phrase  with 
a  mild  insistence. 

However  long  the  curious  might  pause  and 
observe,  it  was  rarely,  indeed,  that  any  reward 
came  to  both  their  endeavors;  the  man  who 
had  seen  this  gaunt  figure,  this  lace-peddler, 
actually  achieve  a  sale  was  hard  to  find. 

It  was  a  day  of  spring.  The  sun  glistened 
on  the  puddles  the  night's  shower  had  left  in 
the  streets.    Something  soft,  something  of  a 


164 


LINGO  DAN 


caress  was  in  the  air.  The  sky-scraping  build- 
ings of  the  town  seemed  to  be  preening  them- 
selves for  their  summer's  flirtation  with  the 
sun. 

The  swinging  of  the  black  laces,  and  the  un- 
heeded intoning  of  the  peddler's  war  cry  sud- 
denly ceased.  "Hallo,  friend  William!"  he 
said.  • 

The  individual  addressed  gave  a  curt  nod. 
His  physical  endowments  were  on  a  par  with 
that  nod;  he  was  closely  knit;  shortnecked, 
stumpy.  He,  too,  had  a  bunch  of  black  laces 
hung  over  his  arm. 

"And  how,"  continued  the  tall,  thin  individ- 
ual, who  had  first  spoken,  "how  have  the  Fates 
been  pleased  to  disport  themselves  today  ?  On 
a  day  like  this,  when  all  the  air  seems  like  a 
kiss,  surely  even  the  Dread  Three  must  feel  the 
impulse  of  kindness,  surely  " 

"Aw,  stow  it!  I  ain't  made  a  sale  this 
whole  d — d  morning,  an'  you  know  it!" 

"Do  I,  indeed,  Billy,  do  I,  indeed  ?  The  ex- 
cess of  your  emphasis,  my  dear  companion,  im- 
pugns the  excellence  of  your  veracity.  How 
— tell  me ! — how  should  I  know  the  slender 
progress  of  your  luck?  Perhaps,  you  would 
infer  me  to  have  gauged  your  status  by  my 
own  misfortunes?  Ah,  well — I  confess."  He 
sighed,  smiling.  He  stepped  down  from  the 
doorway  that  had  held  him:  He  put  his  hand 
on  Billy's  arm. 


LINGO  DAN 


165 


"Suppose,"  he  said,  with  a  whimsical  twist 
of  the  lips,  "that  we  leave  for  a  while  the  scene 
of  our  stupendous  toil.  Suppose  we  tread  a 
measure  on  the  primrose  path!"  He  heaved 
his  narrow  shoulders  forward,  drinking  in  a 
long  drain  of  the  soft  spring  air ;  then,  putting 
a  lean  hand  to  his  companion's  elbow,  he 
sauntered  off  with  him. 

As  they  passed,  even  in  those  harried  thor- 
oughfares an  occasional  smile  followed  this 
curious  twain.  The  one  so  thin,  so  fantas- 
tically pale,  so  like  some  haunting  memory  of 
Don  Quixote  and  Dick  Turpin  rolled  together ; 
the  other  so  squat,  so  animal,  so  ugly.  The 
one  with  such  curious  droppings  of  a  stilted 
eloquence  that  yet  unmistakably  rang  of  the 
gentleman,  the  collegian ;  the  other  of  a  dumb- 
ness broken  only  by  excursions  into  the  pro- 
fane or  the  vulgar.  No  wonder  people  smiled 
at  them! 

Presently  they  were  come  to  a  grassy  space 
that  lay  before  the  water's  edge.  They  found 
a  bench ;  they  sat  clown.  With  a  sigh  of  con- 
tent the  taller  man  stretched  his  long  legs  out 
to  the  growing  grass,  locked  his  fingers  at  the 
back  of  his  head  and  gazed  out  to  the  farther 
waterways. 

"Heigh  ho!"  he  said  softly.  His  eyes  had 
the  far-seeing  stare,  the  film  of  dreaminess. 
"Billy,"  he  went  on,  "did  you  use  your  eyes 


LINGO  DAN 


.  today?  Did  you  see  the  procession  of  beauti- 
ful human  animals  ?  Did  you  note  the  Spring- 
shining  in  their  faces,  dancing  in  their  sinews? 
Did  you?  No?  Ah — Billy,  you  lack,  I  fear 
me,  the  proper  eye  of  the  Beholder.  To  let 
the  ugly  go ;  to  see  only  the  fair  things  of  life ; 
how  delicious — and  how  difficult!  And  yet, 
once — "  He  stopped  and  smiled  upon  his 
companion.  "You  may  scarce  believe  me, 
Billy,  but  today  as  I  saw  the  sunshine,  and 
the  fair  women,  it  came  like  a  leap  into  my 
blood,  the  old,  old,  springtime  impulse  of  dear 
youth,  the  which,"  he  added  more  softly,  "is 
Love!" 

Billy  growled  and  attempted  another  posi- 
tion. "Hell,"  he  remarked,  "but  these  benches 
is  hard!" 

"Why,"  the  other  went  on,  heedless  of 
Billy's  inattention,  "must  it  be  only  Youth  that 
turn  to  love?  Why  is  there  for  us  who  are 
touched  by  grayness  only  Memory?  Ah,  well, 
not  all  of  us  have  even — that!  I,  at  least — 
Ich  habe  gelebt  und  geliebet! — and  on  a  time 
I  have  been  king  in  Arcady.  Have  I  ever  told 
you  of  that  ?  It  was — ah  me ! — how  long  ago 
that  was ! 

******** 
"It  was  the  year  I  came  of  age. 
"The  world  was  sweet  to  me.    When  one 
has  youth,  and  when  the  land  of  books  lies 


LINGO  DAN 


167 


just  behind,  and  there  is  coin  enough  to  stave 
of!  care — it's  little  of  the  darker  sides  one 
thinks  about.  I  had  the  taste  for  travel;  the 
closeness  of  the  college  walls  had  sharpened 
it.    I  went  abroad. 

"What  does  it  matter  where  it  was  ?  Perhaps 
it  was  in  Schwalbach,  when  the  wild  straw- 
berries blushed  loudly  for  the  picking;  perhaps 
it  was  at  Eisenach  with  the  chimes  of  the 
Wartburg  singing  along  the  dusk;  perhaps  it 
was  on  the  Corso  or  on  Prince's  Street.  What 
would  it  profit  you  to  know  ? 

"But  it  was  May,  I  know ;  the  lift  of  spring- 
was  on  the  breeze;  the  blossoms  drooped  over 
the  hedges,  and  the  scent  of  flowers  hung 
over  the  earth. 

"There  was  a  corner  where  the  acacias  fell 
beyond  a  wall  so  that  they  made  a  archway 
for  the  path.  I  was  idling  on,  thinking  of  a 
melody.  And  then,  suddenly,  under  the  white 
acacias  came  a  vision,  a  dream! 

"Ah,  it  is  so  long  ago!  But  how  vividly  I 
can  still  see  her !  A  vision  in  a  wonderful  bit 
of  a  gown,  all  black  and  white,  with  little  white 
cuffs ;  with  a  hat  of  a  daintiness  I  could  never 
describe ;  with  the  pinkest  cheeks  !  She  carried 
a  frilled  and  fluttering  parasol;  it  came  like  a 
halo  behind  her. 

"And  young!  Dear  God,  how  young  she 
was !  I  think  it  is  forgiven  me  now,  the  auda- 
city of  the  boy  that  then  was  I.   How  shall  the 


i68 


LINGO  DAN 


eyes  of  One-and-Twenty  pass  a  woman  and  a 
fair  one  coldly  by?  The  blood  went  spouting 
up  to  redden  my  cheeks;  I  felt  my  eyes  grow 
dim  as  she  came  nearer.  Besides,  I  could  have 
sworn  that  her  eyes,  too,  smiled  a  little.  At  all 
events,  before  those  eyes  had  passed,  I — 
Heavens,  the  dear  folly  of  it ! — I  lifted  my  hat ! 

"Not  boldly,  you  know,  not  with  the  brav- 
ado of  impudence.  No — there  must  have  been, 
I  suppose,  some  hint  of  worship  in  my  face; 
or  else — how  easy  for  her  to  have  frowned 
and  passed  and  shuddered!  But  no;  she 
smiled,  even  as  she  gave  rebuke. 

"  T  do  not  think,'  she  said  (and  sometimes 
in  my  dreams  I  still  hear  that  voice!)  'that  I 
know  you.' 

"  'A  misfortune,'  I  blushed,  'that  you  can 
do  much  to  rectify.' 

"  'And  so  you  think  it  a  misfortune?' 

"  'A  very  grievous  one.  If  I — '  I  stopped. 
I  could  not  say  it.  It  would  sound  like  an 
empty  shell,  a  hollow  compliment,  though  the 
blood  in  me  leaped  with  its  sincerity. 

"  'Yes,  if  you — '  Through  a  lifetime  of 
Weltschmerz  I  can  still  see  her  smiling  encour- 
agement. 

"  'If  I  were  asked  what  fortune  was,  I 
should  say  it  was  to  know  you  and — be  liked 
by  you.' 


LINGO  DAN 


169 


"She  laughed  a  little.  'You  are  extrava- 
gant/ she  said.  But  she  laughed.  And  I  was 
walking  beside  her,  tremulously  happy,  keenly 
conscious  of  her  smiling  lips,  her  laughing 
eyes,  the  proximity  of  her  gown,  the  faint  per- 
fume of  her  lace. 

"  'It  is  very  absurd  of  me  to  allow  you  to 
accompany  me,'  she  said,  presently,  looking 
up  at  me. 

"  'It  is  never  absurd  to  dispense  charity,' 
said  I. 

"Past  the  lawns  and  the  gardens  we  walked ; 
she  full  of  roguish  playfulness,  I  blindly,  fool- 
ishly bathed  in  the  mist  of  a  devotion. 

"She  stopped  as  we  came  to  a  fountain  that 
played  over  some  lazy  goldfish.  'Of  course/ 
she  said,  though  she  still  smiled,  'we  will  never 
see  each  other  again.  For  a  whim  I,  instead  of 
frowning  and  raising  my  eyebrows,  I — ' 

"  'You  were  merciful/  I  interrupted.  'And 
as  you  have  been  merciful  once,  why  not  con- 
tinue so  ?  Why  am  I  not  to  see  you  again  ?' 

"  'It  is  impossible,  unthinkable.  Besides — ' 
She  read,  or  thought  she  read,  the  romantic 
dreams  in  my  young  brain,  'will  it  not  be  much 
more  delightful  to  leave  the  episode  here,  just 
as  it  is,  a  mystery  ?'  Again  the  ripples  showed 
upon  her  lips.   'A  pleasant  mystery,'  she  added. 

"She  stood  there,  leaning  on  her  parasol, 
one  foot  on  the  stone  ledge  about  the  fountain. 


LINGO  DAN 


I  can  see  her  now.  How  fair  she  was !  And 
how  inevitable  that  I  should  refuse  to  shut  my- 
self out  from  the  hope  of  seeing  her  again,  I, 
who  was  young  and  so  full  of  dreams ! 

"  'No/  I  said,  'if  I  may,  I  must  see  you 
again.' 

"  'Supposing,'  she  said,  scratching  the  point 
of  her  parasol  about  the  graveled  walk,  'that 
I  were  engaged,  or  married — or  anything 
dreadful.  It  would  be  wrong,  would  it  not,  for 
both  you  and  me  to  see  each  other  again? 
You  do  not  know  who  I  am — ' 

"Again  I  interrupted  her.  Youth  can  be  so 
rude,  even  in  its  compliments !  'I  know  you 
are  the  most  beautiful  woman  I  have  ever 
seen,  and  the  most  delighful !' 

"She  looked  down,  and  now,  as  I  recall  the 
thing,  I  think  she  sighed.  'It  is  a  pity,'  she 
went  on,  'that  one  cannot  keep  one's  illusions. 
Take  my  advice ;  keep  this  one  at  least !  Never 
see  me  again ;  keep  the  memory  as  it  is.' 

"But  I  protested  fiercely,  and  in  the  end  she 
allowed  me  to  know  that  she  might  walk  this 
same  path  on  the  following  day.  I  was  not  to 
watch  wither  she  went  after  we  parted;  so 
much  of  mystery  she  insisted  upon. 

"There  came,  thereafter,  a  month  of  heaven. 
A  heaven  in  which  there  was  the  allurement 
of  the  mysterious,  perhaps  even  the  forbidden, 
and  the  charm  of  an  ever  growing  fascination. 


LINGO  DAN 


171 


Sometimes  we  would  go  together  to  the  Public 
Gardens  and  hear  the  band  from  the  Jaeger- 
Regiment.  Sometimes  I  took  her  rowing 
down  the  river.  Always  she  treated  me  with 
something  of  humorous  gentleness.  It  was 
maddening,  even  though  it  was  a  happy  mad- 
ness, to  feel  that  I  was  no  nearer  to  penetrating 
the  mystery.  Why  could  she  not  tell  me  who 
she  was,  I  asked  myself. 

"Ah,  if  Youth  but  knew !  Why  could  I  not 
have  believed  her,  when  she  said  it  would  be 
better  to  leave  the  matter  just  a  pleasant  mem- 
ory? Why  not?  Ah,  how  could  I,  when  she 
stood  before  me,  with  the  velvet  glamor  in  her 
eyes,  and  the  sunshine  in  her  smile?  Youth 
has  such  wistful  eyes,  such  rushing  blood! 

"Besides,  to  know  such  a  wonderful  girl  as 
this  and  give  up  all  hope  of  winning  her  for 
one's  own,  it  was  unthinkable!  Her  talk  was 
so  brilliant,  her  jests  so  many,  her  tenderness 
so  sweet ! 

"So  I  went  on  seeing  her,  day  after  day, 
until  one  morning  in  July  she  said  to  me,  quite 
gravely : 

"  'Well,  our  little  play  is  over.' 

"I  felt  my  blood  rushing  to  my  face  and  then 
receding,  leaving  it  white  and  tense.  'Our 
play?'  I  repeated,  tonelessly. 

"  'Yes,'  she  said,  'it  has  been  a  comedy  we 
have  played,  you  and  I,  and  the  end  is  here. 


172 


LINGO  DAN 


Oh,  how  I  tried  to  keep  you  from  it;  how  I 
tried!  But — well,  you  must  promise  me  that 
the  comedy  shall  end  in  laughter,  as  it  began.' 

"I  said  nothing;  I  waited. 

"  %'  she  went  on,  'have  been  most  to  blame. 
I  should  have  frowned;  not  smiled.  But  it  is 
hard  to  frown — sometimes.  And  you — you 
have  enjoyed  being  with  me?" 

"  'It  has  been  heaven !'  I  said. 

"  'You  must  not  say  such  things,'  she  de- 
clared. 'It  only  makes  the  last  scene  harder 
for  me.  How  I  wish  you  had  followed  the  ad- 
vice I  gave  you,  that  first  day,  and  left  the  rid- 
dle unassailed !  How  shall  I  ever  make  atone- 
ment?' She  looked  me  over  wistfully.  Sud- 
denly she  put  her  gloved  hands  on  my  shoulders 
and  kissed  me. 

"Ah,  bon  Dieu,  if  I  live  to  be  a  thousand,  I 
shall  feel  that  kiss,  and  hear  the  music  of  it 
to  my  dying  day!  A  man  tastes  one  such 
in  his  lifetime,  and  many  go  to  their  graves 
without  even  so  much. 

"  'He  would  forgive  me,'  she  sighed,  as  if  to 
herself,  as  she  turned ;  and  then,  to  me,  with  a 
sad  little  laugh,  'It  is  to  remember  me  by.  To- 
morrow I  go  away.  And  you  may  not  follow. 
I  go  away — with  my  husband,  my  husband, 
whom  I  love.' 

"The  world  was  a  mist.  Her  kiss  burned 
on  my  lips;  her  words  in  my  ears.    So  it  had 


LINGO  DAN 


173 


come,  the  curtain  to  the  play !   I  seemed  not  to 
feel  it,  somehow;  she  was  holding  out  her 
hand;  I  took  it;  she  said  goodbye  smilingly; 
even  so  I  echoed  her. 
"She  was  gone. 

•"I  walked  to  the  Gardens.  The  band  was 
playing;  I  only  heard  her  voice.  The  fashion- 
ables were  strolling  up  and  down;  I  only  saw 
her  face.  The  flowering  bushes  brushed  my 
face;  I  only  felt  her  kiss. 

"Perhaps,  if  I  had  not  gone  thither,  to  that 
public  place,  I  might  have  wept.  In  one's 
youth,  one  can  do  so  many  brave,  so  many 
foolish  things. 

"Why  should  I  tell  how  long,  how  much 
I  mourned?  Or  if  I  accused  her — no,  I  think 
I  ever  accused  only  myself.  As  I  looked  back, 
there  was  not  a  look  of  hers,  not  a  tone  of  her 
voice,  that  I  had  seen  or  heard,  that  her  hus- 
band might  not  have  been  by  to  see  and  hear. 
I  knew  now  what  she  had  meant  when  she 
murmured,  'He  would  forgive  me.'  And  yet 
how,  in  some  moments  of  anguish,  I  hated  that 
man ! 

"And  so — the  dream  was  past,  the  vision 
fled.  But  the  memory — ah,  the  memory  is  as 
fresh  as  if  it  had  been  yesterday.  Through  all 
the  after  years  there  has  come  to  me,  ever  and 
again,  the  memory  of  that  month  that  I  lived 
in  Arcady,  and  all  my  life — 


174 


LINGO  DAN 


"Ah,  well — for  me,  there  has  only  been  one 
woman  in  the  world.  She  showed  me  heaven 
for  a  moment ;  she  kissed  me." 

For  some  seconds  longer  he  looked  staringly 
into  the  past.  Now  he  turned  to  Billy.  "You 
are  a  delightful  conversationalist,  Billy,"  he 
said,  "you  listen  so  well.  Eh?  I  beg  your 
pardon!  Oh — h!"  He  smiled  and  stretched 
himself  out  along  the  bench. 

Billy  went  on  snoring. 


=THE  

IMITATOR 

By  PERCIVAL  POLLARD 


Of  this  key-novel,  published  anonymously  in  1902,  some  copies 
of  the  first  edition  still  remain. 

SOME  PRESS  OPINIONS 

"Whimsical,  brilliant,  absurd." — The  Bookman. 

"The  keenest,  cleverest  bit  of  social  satire  that  has  ap- 
peared for  a  long  time.     *    *    *" — Philadelphia  Times. 

"Clever,  daring,  and  epigrammatic." — The  Neiv-Torker. 

"The  author  deserves  the  thanks  of  the  reading  world  for 
his  presentment  of  the  new  wrinkle  in  our  national  costume.  It 
may  do  us  good  to  see  ourselves  as  others  see  us." — Chicago 
Journal. 

"The  boldest,  and  withal,  the  sharpest  'skinning'  that 
has  been  issued  in  this  country  since  the  days  of  the  old  pam- 
phlet and  lampoon.  Frankly,  it  simply  takes  the  hide  off  its 
victim.  *  *  *  The  first  victim  is  immediately  recognized 
as  Harry  Lehr,  the  petted  darling  of  society;  the  second  is 
H.  C.  Chatfield-Taylor,  and  the  third  is  Mansfield  *  *  *" 
— Kansas  City  Journal. 

"If  its  setting  is  hateful — life  in  New  York — its  handling 
is  uncommonly  delicate  and  fine,  its  plot  peculiarly  ingenious, 
its  love  story  of  rare  beauty."  —  Charles  F.  Lummis. 

Price,  $1.25. 


William  Marion  Reedy 

.  PUBLISHER  ======== 

SAINT    LOUIS,  MISSOURI 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 
UNIVERSITY  OF 
NORTH  CAROLINA 
AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Mystery- 
Detective 
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